


A rose so pretty

by Cyto_Zwanzyll



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Addiction, Art, Depression, Insomnia, Other, Painting, References to Depression, gallery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-28 01:15:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10820652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyto_Zwanzyll/pseuds/Cyto_Zwanzyll
Summary: Five years after her visit, Ib is lured back into the world of Guertena. Feeling as if there is something she must do, Ib tries recreate her forgotten bond with a long lost friend and companion. However, that very same person isn't quite the same anymore. Having to solve multiple puzzles and overcome several troubles, Ib tries to save her friend and her own past, but she must hurry, for eveything is fabricated and will soon drown in the abyss...This piece of writing is based on what happens post the ending: "Forgotten Portrait"Also, this is my first ever fanfiction: I'm still fairly young and therefore inexperienced. All criticism welcome!





	1. Chapter 1

Many years have passed; in those years, I have grown. I can now read words such as abstract and abyss to which I know either definition with ease. I do remember where I first heard those words. I was young, 6 years younger than I was at that point to be exact. Not long after my ninth birthday, my parents took me to visit an exhibition by an artist and creator named Weiss Guertena. 

I remember being fascinated, even for a nine year old, by the impressive works of the man. I frequently went to the library to find information about him. My parents thought I was a little odd, but they always passed it off as if I was just being passionate. To be quite frank however, they didn’t know what I knew. I had seen many of those paintings and sculptures in depth. Seen their true story. I have been inside of the gallery; not the same gallery every other visitor saw, but the alternate one. The one that roamed with life. The gallery of my memories.

“Ib?” I looked up from my sketch pad. I was sitting in the living room, cross-legged on the floor, sketchpad on my lap and pencil in hand. My mother had called me.

 “Sweetie, I’m going to the grocery story. Is there anything you would like?” I thought for a second. Although there was nothing I could think of immediately, I did want to get some fresh air.

 “Actually, would mind terribly if I joined you?” My mother of course, didn’t object. I quite frequently joined her for walks when she went to run errands. Father was still at work and he would be until about six this evening. Six o’clock was still two hours away.

 “Hurry up then!” My mother called from the front door. It seemed I was lost in thought once more. Quickly, I got to my feet and darted over, slipping into my shoes swiftly and putting on my winter coat. The air outside had been chilly and crisp. It was refreshing, especially after sitting inside the whole day. I closed the door behind me and locked it with the key that mother had left inside the lock. Afterwards, I joined her.

 “It’s your birthday soon sweetie, have you decided on your present yet?” Asked mother almost instantaneously. To that I shook my head. It was a lie however; both my parents knew what I wanted. It was an impossible present. I wanted one of Guertena’s works. We saw it, that day, in the gallery. Just before leaving, it caught my eye. Forgotten portrait was its title. It was a piece depicting a man, enveloped in thorny vines and blue roses; it was such a mysterious piece of art, and I had found it strangely nostalgic, as if I knew the man in the painting. Then again, I was unsure about many things that happened in that gallery, all I know is that I’ve seen more. More than the average visitor. However, the exhibition was soon cancelled after we visited for it didn’t nearly attract enough people. Clearly, people couldn’t appreciate Guertena’s unique style. If I were honest, I wouldn’t blame them, even though I could not relate. Coming onto the subject of the portrait of the man, my parents knew that that was my favourite piece of art ever. They constantly caught me, subconsciously sketching his face, his familiar features. His very existence seemed to be engraved in my mind, yet I knew not his name.

“Ib?” My mother finally caught my attention and my head snapped around so that my eyes could meet hers.

 “Yes?” I asked still slightly dazed by the suddenness.

“Is there absolutely nothing you would like for your birthday other than...You know what…” My mother grinned, slightly sheepishly and apologetically, as if she was sorry for not being able to get me the painting I wanted so bad.

 “Oh, more sketch paper?” It came out as an unintentional question which made my mother laugh slightly.

 “Alright then, paper it is. Same as last year?” It sounded a bit unsure, but I nodded anyway. My mother nodded as well in response and looked back ahead.

 “I bet you look forward to Saturday, right Ib?” Asked mother.

“Why?” I wasn’t following her, my mind was half preoccupied with remembering the mysterious man’s features.

“Sweetie, are you okay? You seem especially off the world today…” Said mother as her brow creased slightly. I simply nodded quietly to which her shoulder relaxed slightly. I suppose I was lost in thought a lot. I even failed my exams last year because of it. Although I had profusely promised to catch on studies, both my parents and I knew the daydreams wouldn’t stop. I was redoing my year in school. I had only just realised how hard it actually all was.

 School was, well, school. Something I didn’t enjoy much. I was unsure of whether it was because I had no friends or should I say, no interest in friends, or simply because I looked a little air-headed, so people treated me as if I was stupid or something along those lines. Next to that, I always had dark circles under my eyes. Sleep and I weren’t exactly close friends. Most my nights I spent thinking, reimagining and drawing.

 “Ib? We’re here.” Said mother as she pointed to the entrance to the grocery shop. Blinking I nodded and redirected myself, telling my brain to pay attention to my surroundings. Usually, when shopping, my mother told me to go off on my own, she preferred shopping alone when it came down to the actual purchasing of products. I let her as I wandered off into the frozen section. I pondered over the frozen desserts. My eye however, kept returning to a box of frozen macaroons. Something about them seemed nostalgic, despite the fact that I had never tasted on in my life. Maybe I would ask whether mother would get them for me. They looked quite delicious if I were honest. I opened the drawer and picked up the box. There were sixteen macaroons and a selection four different flavours. Strawberry, coconut, lavender and rose. Humming, I went to look for my mother. She was only one isle to the left. Quietly, I placed it in the basket without her noticing before turning back around and heading into a different isle.

 The rest of the shopping was uneventful. Mother didn’t even bother to ask when she saw the macaroons. Maybe she wanted to try one herself. I didn’t know. The journey home was just as uneventful; both my mother and I were quiet.

 When we arrived back home, I put the macaroons in the freezer myself before heading upstairs. It was five thirty, which meant dad would be home in about an hour. I sank onto my bed with a deep sigh after I had entered my room and quietly closed the door behind me.

I lay back against the wall and I let my eyes dart about a bit. They took in my pastel coloured bedroom. The curtains were a pleasant shade of peachy pink and the slightly creme walls complimented the light oak floorboards and window frame. Other than that, my room contained a wardrobe and a bed. Studying, whenever I did that, I did in my dad’s study. He didn’t use it much, and it was the only environment that helped me fully concentrate on work.

 Thinking made my eyes slump slightly and I gave in and let gravity work its magic as they fluttered shut. Abruptly, I slept. It was an uneventful snooze, but it was comforting to know I was still able to give into one of my human requirements.

 When I woke up, it was already eight o’clock. I knew my parents had already eaten. They had stopped waking me if I was asleep, because they knew I needed it. An unpleasant shiver ran down my spine as something popped up into my head. I sat up and leant over my bed, reaching for a see-through box underneath the construction. With one smooth movement, I pulled out a sketchpad, already filled with weird drawings I made. I flicked through it hastily looking for a certain page. After a slow thirty seconds or so, I found it. A  lady in a portrait, crawling out of it slightly while reaching for...something. The ones that could chase after you. Frowning, I turned the page. I had quoted something from my memories there.

 

_“They'll always stubbornly chase things until they're satisfied, it seems... Anywhere, everywhere, to the ends of the earth”_

A certain uneasiness settled in my stomach. Shortly after, it growled and I smiled, patting it.

“Maybe I should eat something.” I thought out loud. Agreeing with my statement, I stood up and readjusted my blouse, staring at myself in the mirror of my wardrobe.

I wasn’t perfect; not at all. My height was below average and I was skinny. Not the anorexic type, but thin enough to see that my upper-arm was almost as wide as my wrist. I often got compared to spaghetti at school. They weren’t wrong I suppose. The only thing remotely pretty about me in my opinion were my hands. They had a nice shape and they were good at making art. I loved my hands for that. Frowning however, I closed my eyes as I started undoing the buttons, slipping the material off my skin and quickly changing into a pair of pajamas, without looking at myself before I was completely changed. Just before I exited however, I took another look at myself. At my dark circles and my slightly sullen garnet orbs. Sighing, I shook my head, telling myself it didn’t matter.

Mother and father were downstairs, talking. I didn’t want to listen in to their conversation so instead I wandered into the kitchen, where a plate of lasagna stood, for me of course. It was still luke-warm so I decided to eat it as it was. Taking the plate and some cutlery, I walked into the dining room and joined my parents who abruptly ceased talking.

“Hey father, how was work?” I said, not looking at them; instead looking at my lasagna as I started dicing it quietly.

“It was alright sweetie, quite uneventful, once again.”Out of sheer politeness, I looked back up and nodded faintly.

“Did you sleep Ib?” Asked my mother, her eyebrows slightly creased. A slightly unsettling silence followed as I chewed on the lasagne. Once I swallowed I nodded and said: “Yes, I did. For an hour or two I think.” To this, both my parents nodded with a meek smile before silence befell upon us again.

“Mother? Can I have a macaroon?” I asked tentatively. Mother nodded with a warmer smile this time.

“Of course honey, if you don’t mind, I took one already. The rose once are quite delicious.”

I didn’t reply. The rest of the eating-my-dinner time was quiet.

“Thanks… That lasagna was really good.” Mother nodded with a smile as I got up and took my emptied plate back to the kitchen, rinsing it thoroughly before putting it in the washing rack, ready for the dishwasher.

While I stood in the kitchen, I couldn’t help but listen in to my parent’s conversation. Who wouldn’t listen once they heard their own name being mentioned.

“We need help dear, she’s suffering. She’s an insomniac, don’t deny it. And the daydreaming isn’t getting any better. It’s almost as if, those works by Guertena have entranced her or something. She hasn’t been the same since her ninth birthday.”

“Yes, I’m very aware of that, but we just don’t have the resources to pay for a councillor.”

“But don’t we have insurance? Surely this falls under that?”

My father let out a deep sigh.

“Let’s face it for another while.”

“We’ve been facing these same issues for the past. Five. Years. I’m growing sick of constantly worrying about Ib. I don’t want to sound selfish, but something’s not right in her, she needs help.”

“Just leave her alone, you know she prefers that. She doesn’t harm us. She’s just… quiet is all.”

“You don’t understand, I feel like I can’t connect to my own daughter. As if she’s distant, in another world. A world I can’t reach… I feel sad that, I can’t have any proper interaction with my only daughter.” Finally, the sobs broke out and I could her my mother covering her face because the sound was muffled.

Those macaroons suddenly didn’t seem so very appealing anymore. I took a deep, silent breath and darted past the door of the dining room, going instead into the living room to pick up my sketchbook.

To avoid my parents from hearing me, I tiptoed up the creaking staircase and quietly closed the door to my bedroom behind me. I drew the curtains and turned on my light. I turned to the back of the sketchbook to look at the forgotten portrait I had drawn. I could roughly recall how the painting had been constructed but only the colours seemed not to place properly. I pulled out a box of professional colouring pencils and a spare piece of paper from the same box as the old sketchbook I had pulled out earlier. It was still open on my bed. Shivering again, I quickly closed it and instead turned to dotting down the colours I thought were on the painting on the spare piece of paper. I just couldn’t remember the tone of his skin, or the shade of his hair. All I could recall were the blue roses. Blue was his colour. Blue meant innocence and kindness. Blue meant honesty. Blue meant mysterious. It was only then that I realised tears were running down my cheeks and onto his. I let out a cry as I chucked the drawing aside, not wanting any more tears to ruin the beautiful face.

Suddenly, I heard someone on the stairs, coming for my room across the corridor. I panicked and shoved the drawings under my bed, quickly wiping my tears away and hoping my eyes weren’t too red. The door opened and my father entered with a rather stern expression. Once he saw me however, it softened. He bit his lip however.

“Ib? I have something… That might help you sleep tonight.” Father held up a small jar filled with an unfamiliar liquid.

“Is it sleeping pills father?” I asked, getting up slightly.

“Sort of… “He admitted sheepishly. I nodded vaguely.

“Is this because mother wanted it?” I asked quietly; father only nodded as he unscrewed the cap and pulled out a teaspoon he had been keeping in his pocket. He filled the spoon to the brim with the liquid and handed it to me. Preparing for the worst, I took it in in one gulp. It took me a moment to register the flavour. Sort of nutty. Not at all unpleasant. I blinked once or twice.

I suddenly felt very cold and I quickly slipped under my duvet. Father walked over and placed a quick kiss on my forehead.

“I hope you sleep alright tonight Ib.” He spoke quietly.

The last thing I registered was the door closing after the lights switched off and I pondered one final time over that strange man. The man in blue.

Whatever those drugs had done, seemed to have effect on me the following days. Although sleep came easier and I felt way more rested than usual, my clumsiness level had risen by twenty-five percent. In three days alone, I managed to smash four pieces of china. My thoughts were hyper and all over the place and I couldn’t focus at all. At some point, it got so bad that on the Friday afternoon, I got sent home from school to which I couldn’t even remember the reason to begin with.

Therefore, on Friday evening around 7 o’clock, I sat at home on the sofa in the living room with a cup of tea on my lap while staring blankly into space. The TV was switched on, but I had no interest in it. My father and mother were both in the kitchen. For some odd reason, father had stayed home that day.

The doorbell rang and I slowly got to my feet to open it. However, at that moment my mother walked in.

“Ib… Could you possibly help me choose what to wear to our dinner tomorrow?” Sighing, I nodded, hearing father already got the door.

My mother steered me out of the room and straight up the stairs.

“Any colours in particular?” Asked my mother, to which I simply shrugged.

“Black?” I suggested quietly.

“Now Ib, your sixteenth birthday isn’t a funeral. Are you sure, you want me to wear black?” Asked my mother, stifling a laugh. I too laughed softly and shook my head.

“How about red. It suits your eyes.” I wondered. My mother nodded, agreeing with me. She pulled out the only two red dresses she had. Although we both decided on one of the dressed, it seemed it didn’t quite fit anymore, so we went with the simple wine red coloured cocktail dress which suited mother very nicely.

“This is great honey, I am so very excited for tomorrow, are you not?” I nodded slightly. I wasn’t lying or anything. I was looking forward to getting more paper very much. Anything artsy was always  welcome. However, recognising that I was sixteen meant I was even further away from my memories of when I was nine. I sighed quietly as the corners of my mouth dropped down again.

Mother suddenly hugged me. I stiffened in surprise, not having foreseen the sudden contact. After less than two seconds however, I relaxed in her embrace and hugged back, the corners drifting back up again.

“My baby girl is going to be sixteen.” I could hear the tears welling up from the way her tone had moved up by a few notes. Giggling I shook my head as I pulled back.

“I love you mother.” I said quietly; her hand raised up and cupped my cheek.

“I love you too Ib, my precious Ib.” I smiled once more before turning.

“Shall I cook tonight?” I asked with a smile; I was feeling a lot better at that point.

“Don’t be silly sweetie, it’s the night before your birthday.”Protested my mother profusely as she darted to the door once she’d changed back into her normal house clothes. I sighed with a soft smile.

“Come on. I insist.” My mother paused and turned slightly, her eyes darting up and down my features, trying to uncover whether I was pulling her leg or not. She found nothing.

“Ah, very well then. I say, why don’t we cook together tonight and make a lamb stew, it’s your father’s favourite.” My mother smiled and I nodded vigorously. Mother’s stew was legendary. She hardly ever made it, but when she did, it was as if heaven had come down to Earth and incarnated into the form of the most delicious stew ever. I hurried back downstairs, just as my father closed the door to the garage.

“What was that father?” I asked curiously as he locked the door and dropped the key into the drawer below the kitchen sink.

“A package for a project I’m currently working on.” Said he with a cool air. He then proceeded to say: “I’ll be in my study if you need anything.”

Mother came into the kitchen just as father departed and she slipped on an apron, beckoning for me to do the same and then wash my hands before we got started on our evening meal.

Our dinner was late that night, neither of my parents minded much because I didn’t have school the next day. I could have a ly-in. It sounded quite appealing. As predicted, the stew was indeed heaven on Earth if not better. Father was extremely happy and he ate at least three bowls full. Our evening was pleasant and I ended going up to bed at about eleven. Not a single time had I thought about my past, about the gallery or about Guertena, and to be quite frank, it felt better. As I sat down on my bed after closing the curtains and changing into pajamas I thought to myself. Maybe it was time I let everything that happened that day behind me. I would never see anything like that again and if I let it bother me any longer, I would only worry my parents even more. I felt bad, especially after hearing them that night. I knew they were worried, but that my mother got so upset because she felt we had no connection.

With my mind going black, I slowly slipped into a deep, deep sleep.

_The corridor was very narrow and long. I could not see the end, or the beginning for that matter, for if I looked back, all I could see was more darkness. Feeling that I had to walk forward I did so, just as my name was called._

_“Come Ib… Come play Ib… I’ve missed you.” It chanted over and over and over. The voice was deep within my head and I could not ignore it. The voice was husky and alluring. I felt compelled to do as the voice told me. The voice was so familiar and comforting. I wanted to hear it more…_  
  
---  
  
  _Blindly following the soothing voice, I stepped ahead, straight into the abyss. With a smile, I started running when a door became visible at the end of the hallway. Ten feet. It was a blood red colour. Five feet. My hand stretched out for the doorknob and once I felt the cool metal in my hand, I turned it and I pushed myself through, not really knowing why I was being so careless or why I even running to begin with. There was no turning back however; I had to keep going. My eyes darted around but there was nothing. The void was grey and dull. And as the door behind me shut, darkness fell. I stood silently, too afraid to move at that point. My body was screaming to turn around, but the door was gone. It had been a one way entrance and would not be my exit._

_Frowning, I closed my eyes, imagining a small ball of light, blue in colour, leading me through the darkness. My hands slid over my heart and in the next second, I felt something cool in my hands. I reopened my eyes and was amazed to see the blue light of my imagination in my hands. It was quivering violently and I only then realised, I was holding onto it for dear life. Panicking, I let it go abruptly. It didn’t fly away, but it hovered at about the height of my heart. Slowly, it started bobbing along into the darkness and without hesitation, I started blindly following once more._

_“Ib… You’ve grown. Have you missed me at all? Do you remember my name?” The same voice as before resonated from somewhere, but this time it was less deep and most likely not inside of me. I stared as the blue light flickered faintly._

_“Is that you… Blue?” I dared to ask. My only response was a dark chuckle._

_“Ib, you're so silly. That's not my name.” The voice hummed quietly as I darted for the blue light. I shot away and more laughter sounded. Panicking slightly, I ran after it as it continued to spread into the empty chasm behind it._

  _Just as I started believing there was no end to the void, the blue light collided against a wall and light appeared everywhere. The whole room shone for a second before dimming._

  _It wasn't the room I had eye for, but the painting on the wall. It was the Forgotten Portrait. But the man in it, wasn't asleep. He was wide awake and leaning down, lazily sloping over his frame with a slight grin, his deep electric blue eyed staring at me intently._

  _“Come on Ib… What are you waiting for.” Without notice, his hand, tight and strong, wrapped around my neck and tried to pull me into his painting as roses thorns pricked at my arms and vines wrapped around my wrists, all pulling me into a horror I was too afraid of._

 With a jerk, my eyes opened. It was a dream. Relief made my shoulders relax and I looked at my window, light cascaded through the cracks of the curtains and I knew I must have slept for quite a long time.

 Sighing, I sat up, rubbed my eyes and looked at the wall opposite me. It was no longer blank. As realisation dawned on me, my eyes widened with horror and I screamed.

 Less than a minute later, my mother was at my side, her hand on mine as I trembled slightly, having gone into shock.

 There hanging on the wall opposite me, was the Forgotten Portrait.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ib?” Father came in just as I had regained a steady heartbeat. My eyes stared mesmerized at the face of the man in the painting. His features even more perfect than I could recall.

“Sweetie, your father is calling you.” I looked around at mother and then blinked, directing my attention towards my father, my eyes still wide with amazement and slight fear.

“Are you alright Ib?” Asked he concerned, to which I could only nod because my throat was much too dry to announce any sort of response.

A moment of silence befell all three of us before I was the one to speak.

“Where did you get this painting?” I insisted in a meek voice. Father bit his lip and his eyes darted past me. Turning around, I could see my mother had a similar expression directed towards father.

“Well… You see, the two of us sort of found the painting three years ago. However, it was an expensive piece and well, we didn’t have that kind of money back then, so we’ve been paying for the painting ever since we’ve found it in small amounts… And luckily, we paid the last bit of it, so we could give it as a birthday present.” She smiled kindly and ran a hand through my hair. Shivering, I looked back at the painting, afraid to ask how much they paid for it. However, in my eyes it was worth no amount of money, it was much too valuable for any sum in fact.

“But...Where?” I asked astounded. My mother smiled kindly as she rubbed my back and said: “Guertena’s grandson. Your father found his address on the internet. Guertena’s grandson got all his father’s works. He was quite happy to sell this one after we’d both explained the situation. He hopes you’re happy with it.” Feeling rather startled, my eyebrows creased.

“Guertena’s grandson?” I questioned looking back at the painting. It became seemingly more lifelike with each time I turned to look at it. I knew already, that today was going to take forever to end.

“Come on Ib, let’s not loiter around. I made pancakes for breakfast.” Mother got up as she said that and motioned for me to follow her. I did so. On our way downstairs, I spotted balloons hanging from the railings of the stairs. I blushed with embarrassment.

“Mother… I’m really too old for this.” I said in a small tone.

“Nonsense!” called my father from downstairs, holding a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

“Oh, and of course we got you that sketchbook.” He winked at me and I rolled my eyes slightly, a smile spreading across my face. If this day was going to last, I was going to enjoy it immensely. Downstairs in the dining room, the table was set. As mother had announced, a pile of pancakes stood waiting in front of a decorated chair. The chair was wrapped in red paper roses and it looked quite pretty to be honest. Happily, I took a seat and stared at the seemingly never ending pile. To my left stood strawberries, syrup and cream and to my right stood a small pile of presents and cards. I reached for a card first, carefully opening it. I pulled out a beautiful card and saw it was from my parents. Of course. A sentimental message was written on the back, but I only scanned it quickly. I smiled at my parents who had taken a seat at the table with me. Father was drinking his coffee while reading the newspaper while mother watched me with a smile. An empty plate stood before her. At once, I put the card down and reached over, picking up her plate and placing three or so pancakes on it before grinning.

“You eat too!” I felt happy. My mother noticed it too and she smiled in return, piling some strawberries onto her pancakes before digging in. Meanwhile, my eyes darted back to the cards and presents but I thought it rude to let my mother’s hard work go cold, so I ate the pancakes first. Of course, seeing as mother made them, they tasted amazing and I complimented her profusely. Of course, also like mother, she simply waved it off and told me to mind my own business. In a joking manner, obviously . Smiling, I returned to the presents. There was the promised sketchbook, some colouring pencils, new paint brushes and some basic, primary coloured water paints but of high quality. The paints had come from a distant aunt whom I had once met. Apparently, she had found the paints lying around and she had heard from my mother that I loved painting. She sent a card with it but it only contained the usual birthday wishes and her name.

       Once I had unwrapped all the presents, my mother cleared the table before I could even say thank you. Shaking my head, I bit down a slight smile. I wanted to draw and test out my new materials. So, I asked my father; he simply replied with: “It’s your birthday sweetie.” I took it as a yes and darted upstairs. There, I was confronted with the portrait once more. At once, all my desire to create were gone and I dropped everything I was carrying at that point. I paced quietly over to the painting and sank onto the floor helplessly.

       Now that it was here, the colours really pushed through and I stared at it incredulously. My memories were all rubbish. Then, right there, I realised how fragile my mind was. The painting hanging on my own bedroom wall was magnificent and seemed to disobey time itself. It was one with the universe and it could see into me, despite having no visible eyes. I shivered violently but my orbs couldn’t look anywhere else. The man’s stunning features were too perfect, his skin tone to even and the roses too delicate. Surreal as the perfection looked, I could tell it was so close to reality, that if it weren’t for common sense, I would have sworn it could move.

“Blue…” I called out what I thought described him best, extending my arm at the same time. My fingertips gently grazed the frame. The texture of the wood was smooth; the very same way I imagined the male’s skin to feel if it were real. He wasn’t real though. Despite my desires, he was sealed in a different place, if at all.

       After what seemed like a decade, I closed my eyes and fantasized his movements, his soothing voice and his kind eyes, which I hoped were as blue as his roses. A sudden shock ran down my spine and my eyes snapped open. With them spread wide, I stared back up at the painting.

No difference. I had only imagined it had tilted its head ever so slightly. Gulping, I got back up and turned away from the portrait, instead bustling over to pick up the dropped art materials, hoping I had broken nothing. And to my surprise, I hadn’t. Feeling quite cheerful once more, I made a home for all the gifts I had been presented with earlier. I glanced around once more, to confirm that the stunning picture really was there, before turning back and getting down to drawing.

Two hours passed and I looked up when a ray of setting sunshine fell upon my face through the window. Looking to the side, I read the time on my small alarm clock, placed carefully on the right corner of my desk. It announced it was five o’clock. I yawned softly but smiled, looking back at my sketches. For once, I had thought I would draw something else. In the end, I had pictured a small girl drawing. I could imagine the girl having bright blonde hair and a lovely green dress. Sighing, I closed my sketchbook just as my mother called me from downstairs. Hurrying over to the landing, I looked over the railing of the stairs curiously. In my mother’s hands, she held a small package with a letter taped securely around the front.

“Who is it from?” I questioned curiously as I swung around the stairs and darted down them slightly excited. When I arrived, I saw the handwriting on the package. It was neat and quite fancy and had a comforting feeling to it. At that same moment, my mother answered with: “I’m not sure. I don’t recognise this lovely script. It’s addressed to you however Ib. Could it be a friend from school?” I rolled my eyes slightly, as if anyone from school was going to know when my birthday was. I sighed and took the package from my mother’s outheld hand.

“Show me what’s inside.” My mother looked curious, even more so than I felt from what I could tell. Chuckling I managed to pry the card taped to the package off without damaging it. For once I went straight in for the package rather than reading the message first. When I shook the box slightly, I could distinctly hear a rattling noise from inside a box of some sort. Once unwrapped, I opened the top of it and peered inside with my mother.

“A lighter?” Her face fell, before turning a little anxious.

“Who in their right mind would give you a lighter Ib? You don’t smoke do you sweetie?” I frantically shook my head before she could come up with any strange ideas of her own. I picked the lighter up and placed it in my palm. It wasn’t very big, but it was pretty, despite being simple. It was made of a cooling steel. When I opened it, I could find a bit of rust starting to appear around the edges. The surface of the metal was polished and smooth as I rubbed my thumb across it. I tilted it slightly so it would reflect different rays of light. A blue flash suddenly passed randomly and I looked behind me. There was nothing there but the stairs.

My mother was meanwhile still contemplating why someone would send me a lighter for my birthday, but she turned and started mumbling as she walked into the living room where father most likely was.

Meanwhile, I looked back at the lighter and, looking at the hand holding the letter, I noticed it was shaking violently. Was I afraid? I wasn’t sure. Anticipated maybe, but definitely not afraid, I thought. Looking back up the stairs, I frowned once more, assuring myself there was no one else there. In a swift motion, I slipped the lighter into the left pocket of my pyjama trousers and began opening the letter.

When I finally managed to get the envelope open, a folded piece of paper fell out and dropped down the last flights of stairs. In response, I yelped and threw myself forwards, trying to grab a hold of the paper. Because I caught it by the wrong corner, something red and small fell out. It slowly fell towards the floor. Leaning in, I picked it up. I lifted it close to inspect it, but realised it was nothing more than a red petal. Most likely the petal of a rose. I’d seen a red rose sculpture… In the gallery.

I folded open the piece of paper. My insides went numb as the earth beneath my feet abruptly collapsed. Blankly I stared at the message on the paper, still clenched tightly in my hand. My grip tightened until my knuckles whitened.

_Come on Ib, I’ve missed you. Do you want to come and play?_

There was not a trace of a name. The only thing I could confirm was that the handwriting was corresponding to the handwriting on the front of the envelope.  Like a bucket of ice cold water, the dream I dreamt last night washed over me and I shivered, my grip on the piece of paper loosening so much, that it slipped from between my fingers and twirled to the floor.

       Whoever was playing around with me was very good at it. I didn’t understand. How could this possibly all be real. First the dream, then the portrait and then the letter and lighter. Something felt wrong. To remind myself that I was not dreaming, I pinched myself harshly and quickly ruffled my auburn hair.

“No Ib, you got this. It’s probably someone that’s trying to be funny.” My mother walked into the hallway that very second and in a rush, I stuffed the letter into my pocket, not bothering whether it crinkled or not.

Mother went upstairs after announcing that we would soon depart to a restaurant to celebrate. She also told me to get ready in about half an hour. I wondered where she and father were taking me. The thought only lasted briefly however, for my mind returned to the mysterious puzzle that lingered inside the pocket of my pyjamas. I agreed with myself that it was part of something much larger. At that point, I could only see a tiny part; I wouldn’t understand until I saw the bigger picture. That feeling made me feel rather small and insignificant. Biting my lip, I decided to head into the kitchen where, without thinking I pulled out a small lunch box and filled it with four macarons from the freezer. Perhaps I would save them for on the road. I turned back around with the lunchbox in my hand and returned up to my bedroom.

       The trip to my room suddenly seemed very long. My pace was slow; I could not move any faster. Although a trip sounded long, it was nowhere near as long as it felt.

Setting down the box on my bed, I bit my lip as once again, my eyes fell upon the beauty of the Forgotten Portrait. I took another moment to appreciate the sheer hard work Guertena must have performed to create such lovely work.

Once I had recharged myself by looking at the painting, I darted across the room to my wardrobe. Out of it, I pulled a simple carrier bag. In it, I put my sketchbook, two pencils, the lunchbox along with the letter and lighter. Although there was no real reason for bringing the latter two, I felt like I had no choice. I had to bring them.

Then, I turned back to my opened closet, thinking. After a couple of silent minutes, I reached inside and pulled out a white blouse that was slightly too big for me. Leaning down, I opened a drawer and pulled out a red skirt that fell to my knees. With shorts underneath, I pulled the skirt on. Looking at myself in the mirror, I stifled a soft giggle. I looked ridiculous. Therefore, I slipped into the blouse and buttoned it up before looking back at myself. That looked much better. Quickly, I folded my pyjamas and placed them carefully on the end of my bed. I also placed the filled bag on the bed.

Leaving my room, I paced over to the bathroom. Once in there, I looked at myself in the mirror. Scrawny and tired still. My mind only barely thought of putting on make-up however. Despite looking the way I did, I did not want make-up on my face. Mother had always said I was welcome to use it but I had always refused. Instead, I picked up the hairbrush and got rid of all the knots in my hair. Taking my time with my hair, I managed to contemplate the freakiness level of my day so far. Once my hair was free of any tangles, I placed the hairbrush where I had found it and looked at myself once again.

A couple of minutes later, I exited the bathroom and headed back to my room. Before I entered however, I changed my mind. Spinning around, I made my way to the stairs. Heading down them, I hummed slightly. Downstairs, my father was drinking another mug of coffee. Abruptly, I noticed my dry throat and I checked the time. I had fifteen more minutes according to the clock in the dining room. In that time, I planned to make myself a cup of tea.

I filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove, lighting the fire. Leaning against the kitchen top, I waited and looked down at the floor. My mind lingered off into another place.

Last night’s dream made its way to the foreground and I frowned as I remembered the dark hallways and the voice. The soothing and velvety voice. When I thought about it, I could definitely identify it as a man’s voice, most likely about my age if not older. That left me wondering as to who that voice belonged to. And for some reason, the image of the Blue Man kept popping up in my head. But that couldn’t possibly be his voice. He had no voice. He was a painting; he couldn’t move, let alone have a voice. Maybe I was crazy after all. And maybe I did need help.

I jumped as the kettle started whistling loudly behind me. Swiftly, I picked it up and poured the hot water into a mug that I pulled out of the cupboard earlier. Blindly, I put a teabag in the cup, too preoccupied with other thoughts to really notice what flavour it was. As a consequence of not paying attention, I lifted the steaming hot solution to my lips, forgetting its temperature and wincing as I burned my tongue. I placed the cup down a little too fast and the liquid poured over my hand. Again, I winced and pulled my hand away. I reached up and felt my tongue. It felt a little coarser because of the burn but other than that it felt normal. I turned to the fridge and pulled out the milk to cool the tea down. Once applied, I tried to drink again. It wasn’t nearly as hot that time and I could properly taste the compound of milk and... roses? Had I made rose tea? I opened the closet and saw the box I had pulled the tea bag from. No, it was peppermint. Then, I looked back down and flipped over the label of the tea bag so I could see the flavour. It said rose tea. Scanning around the rest of the cupboard, I discovered there was no rose tea to be found.

For some reason. I abruptly felt queasy and I poured the rest of the tea down the sink, rinsing the cup and putting it in the dish rack. Biting my lip, I instead filled a glass with ice cold water. I sipped it carefully. It was when I drank the water, that I noticed the large puddle of tea, still on the kitchen top. Glancing around, I saw no cloths. So instead, I headed for the cupboard that contained all the cloths. Opening it, I grabbed one of the top of the pile. Something caught my eye however. Folded neatly in the corner of the shelf, lay a white fabric. My hand reached out for it. As I felt the material of the cloth I realised what it was. It was my handkerchief. And almost instantaneously, I pulled it out, turning it over to reveal my name, embroidered into the corner. I smiled. I had gotten it for my ninth birthday as I recalled. Forgetting all about the tea, I unfolded the handkerchief and felt the white lace carefully. It was soft. Shaking it, dust fell from it. I then put it in my pocket carefully.

“I’ll take that with me as well.” Again, I smiled as I spoke. I then proceeded to clean the puddle and went into the living room, where my father had just closed a book. He was sitting on the sofa, staring into space absent-mindedly. My mother came in and looked at me.

“Isn’t that a bit cold Ib?” She asked curiously as she stared up and down at what I was wearing. I shook my head fervently.

“As long as we’re not going to the north pole I think I’ll be fine.” At that my mother smiled meekly and rolled her eyes.

“Fine then. Honey?” She directed her attention to my father who had snapped out of thought at once and turned to look at his wife.

“It’s about time you got ready as well.” Smiled my mother as she nodded at me, indicating it was for my birthday dinner. At once, my father stood up and nodded. He looked back at me and grinned, winking once before disappearing.

A couple of minutes later, he returned. Of course, he was dressed smartly in a dark blue suit. Smiling slightly, I looked at my parents as they stood next to each other. Only then, did I fully appreciate how well they fitted together. They looked happy and complete in one another’s presence. I wish I could have that one day. I envied them.

“It’s about time. Let’s go.” My mother said as she hooked an arm with father. Shaking my head with a smile, I followed the two as they headed for the front door. Once again, I was the one to lock the door. We walked through our front garden. However, just as my parents unhooked arms to let me walk in the middle, I remembered.

“Oh… I left something in the house. Do you mind if I sprint back to go and get it?” I asked neither of my parents in particular. As a response, I got simple nods from both of them however. Darting back, I unlocked the front door and dashed through the hallway and up the stairs. Once at the door of my room, I slowed. Carefully, I opened it and walked into my bedroom.

For some reason it seemed grey, despite there still being enough light outside. I walked into the middle of my room and jumped abruptly. The door behind me had slammed shut. Peering around, I checked whether there was someone there, my hair on end. No one. I turned back around and walked over to my window, pulling back the curtains. A thick fog clung to the window, blocking the outside world. Biting my lip, I tried to open it.

It didn’t seem locked, but it wouldn’t open. I turned around. Despite having opened the curtains, the room still looked dull and dismal. Shivering violently, I quickly grabbed my bag and pulled it over my head, holding onto the straps securely. staring down, I noticed my hands were shaking once again. This time however, I knew it was fear. The room grew eerily cold and I shrank back towards the door slightly. In that very moment, my eyes fell upon the Forgotten Portrait.

I screamed.

There, leaning over the frame, his eyes wide open, he sat. He stared at me, a playful smirk on his face. In his hand, he held a bright red rose, much too vibrant to fit the rest of the room, which had grown into shades of grey. Only the painting, the red rose and myself still bore colour. Once the male in the painting caught wind of my expression, he sniggered quietly.

_“What’s the matter Ib? Has it really been that long? Do you really not remember me?”_

The painting stretched out his arm, straight out of the area of the frame, holding up the red rose to me.

_“This is yours… I’ve kept it close to me all this time. I knew you’d come back. Let’s play.”_

His soft voice seemed littered with kindness, but something about the coldness in his blue eyes made me uncomfortable. I turned around, smacking my cheeks and telling myself I was imagining things. I was crazy. There was no other explanation. Dashing off to the door, my hand wrapped around the doorknob. It was much too cold and, tugging and turning it, I realised the door was locked. Flailing, I panicked. My door didn’t have a lock on it. Sweat broke out on my forehead as I turned back around. The man still stared at me with the same intrigued expression.

_“Why so afraid Ib, I’m not scary am I?”_

Despite the fact that his tone conveyed sadness, his expression did not change. It was obvious he was highly amused.

_“Oh come on, play with me. I’ve missed you.”_

He dropped the red rose onto my bedroom floor and a shock went through my body. I slumped slightly against one of the icy walls and groaned slightly.

_“Pick it up Ib.”_

His tone grew as icy as the doorknob had been to touch. And without even realising it, I moved over, bending over and picking up the red rose. Looking back up, his expression had changed. He was pleased. Before I could do anything else however, he’d leaned so far out of his painting that his hand successfully managed to grab my shirt. He yanked it back and I yelped, earning a dark chuckle from him. I shut my eyes tightly as he pulled me in.

Was this the end?

 


	3. Chapter 3

Darkness enveloped me. Although I no longer felt cold, constant shivers ran down my spine. Opening my eyes had no use, all I could see were the dull surroundings. I couldn’t even see the floor.

In my hand however, I carried the red rose. Immediately, I clenched it tightly as if it were my lifeline. The red petals shimmered, despite there being no light for it to reflect. Somewhere inside of me, I knew it glowed from within; I knew it had a soul.

It was only then, I realised I was sat. A support was against my back and feeling it with one hand, I determined it was a wall. Using the wall as a guide, I stood up slowly. Pins and needles attacked my legs and I stumbled slightly, just as my eyes started to get used to the dark.

Ahead of me, I could vaguely see another wall. On it was a painting and beside that, another painting. Nostalgia came flooding over me and without thinking, I darted over. My eyes scanned the title of the painting.

_ Coughing man. _

As I leant in to look at the man’s features a sound came from the painting and I shrieked. He had quite literally coughed right in front of me. The substance splattered onto my bag and covered half of my rose as well.  Shivering, I removed whatever it was he had coughed onto my face. When I looked down at my hands, a pale blue liquid stuck to my fingers and without thinking about it, I smelled it. It smelled of acrylic paint; one of my favourite scents. Still, I felt slightly uncomfortable with having someone cough over me so I took a step back and quietly asked the painting whether he could cover his mouth the next time. Of course, no further response came from the painting. Sighing, I looked down the hallway, past all the vaguely familiar paintings and sculptures. I wanted to know what this place was and why it was so strangely silent.

A large wall mural caught my attention however and I turned to face it. Its title was  _ Fabricated World  _ and I leaned in, hoping nothing would cough in my face like last time. Through the dimness, I managed to pick apart the different parts of the canvas. There were obscure depictions of people and headless statues. However, the thing that truly peeked my interest were three figures in the far-right bottom corner of the picture. One was tall and held onto the hands of two small girls. One of the girls had blonde hair and a green dress while the other wore a red skirt and a white blouse. Just like me…

I leant in but shuddered. The facial expressions of the figures were blurred and off-putting. I paced back two or so steps and blinked. There had to be an explanation for why there was a picture of myself there.

And then it clicked. These works were Guertena’s. That’s where I had seen them. Nine years ago, was when I had seen all these works which had made such an impression on me. Why I only remembered it now seemed a mystery. I decided it had to do with the drugs my father had given me to help me sleep. Maybe there was some sort of forgetfulness concoction inside of the sleeping draft or something. It didn’t matter though. I was where I was and there must have been a reason for it. A sudden urge made me feel compelled to uncover my purpose for being back at Guertena’s gallery. And out of nowhere, my legs carried the rest of me around the corner and down a fleet of stairs. At the bottom was a reception area which still seemed somewhat familiar. I knew where to go. Turning left I saw the floor painting I had been looking for. If I remembered correctly, it went down into the abyss. I needed to get there. However, for some strange reason I could remember footprints leading into the painting. Staring at the painting, I noticed there was no way it was going to let me through this time. And that was when I realised things were different. Any reference I could recall from the past was sure to be almost completely useless. No common sense could fully apply to anything that was about to happen. I had to let go of what was real. With that thought in mind, I closed my eyes and stilled my breathing to a calm and even rhythm. A sound, coming from below made me open my eyes. Inside the deep blue sea of the painting, the vast fish moved, swimming around and calling out. I smiled and climbed over the fence preventing anyone from touching the painting and dropped myself down with hesitation. Scraping back nearly forgotten memories wasn’t exactly the easiest task. It kept me distracted during my fall though. Left, key. Right, door. When I reopened my eyes, there was only a plain grey corridor, going straight ahead. As I had anticipated, it wasn’t going to be the same again. I reached for my bag, wanting to make sure whether it was still there. It was. That comforted me. I looked back up, suddenly feeling a lot more determined. Maybe this would explain all the troubled nights I had had for five relentless years. My pace quickened as the red door at the end became visible. Arm stretched out, I met with the doorknob and twisted it. It opened with a click and swung open without having to be pushed.

           Once inside the room, the door swung shut behind me. Gazing around, I took in the red room. There were two doors. The left one was red and the right one was blue. In between the two doors stood a vase. Walking up to it, I noticed a little bit of water in it. Raising an eyebrow, I looked down at the rose in my hand and then back at the vase; I lifted my hand and placed the rose inside of the vase.

Straightaway, everything inside of my body felt lighter. I no longer felt like I was being pressed down upon by some heavy force. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, I took the red rose out of the vase and held onto it tightly once more. Nothing else of notice was inside of the red room and I decided to head for the red door first. However, it was locked. As the only alternative, I went in through the blue door which was still open. In it were shelves of books.

I looked up and down the shelves and pulled out a thick, velvet covered book which fell open onto a page which contained the following phrase:  _ You and the rose are unified. Know the weight of your own life. _

That made my eyes looked down at the rose in my hand. Then, I peered back at the book and turned the next couple of pages. Nothing else was clear so I closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. When I place it back, a loud click resonated from next door. Immediately, I dashed out the room and noticed the red door had opened. Passing through it, I carefully closed afterwards. There was another narrow hallway which had paintings of men with wide eyes, staring at one another across the small space in between them. Carefully, I walked past them but when I dared to turn to look at one of the men, I screamed when his eyes met with mine. The scream echoed around the whole place and in the far distance, a rumbling sounded. A very suspicious rumbling. Whipping my head around, I squinted my eyes to see what the sound was. The floor started quivering and I could see something moving very rapidly. Before I could register what it was, I started running, straight ahead into the darkness. Panting, I stretched out my arms, waiting for them to collide with a wall or door, but nothing came. And that was when I realised I was falling. Closing my eyes, I prepared myself for the force of hitting something solid. But again, nothing came. I just kept falling and falling. Deeper and deeper until the darkness was so consistent, that I couldn’t even see my crimson rose anymore. That was when the fresh and clean smell of flowers filled my nostrils. Blindly, I felt around and the touch confirmed my earlier scent. Once my eyes adjusted to the dark again, I noticed I was placed inside of a huge flower. I felt puzzled by the fact it was real. I was unable to remember it being there before.

Getting up, I moved over and tilted my head as I stared at the flower. As I moved away to inspect it from a further distance, I spotted a similar flower next to it. It was yellow. However, it was dead and shrivelled. On top of it lay a broken mannequin head with a red substance pouring from its eyes. I could almost feel pity for the thing. Looking back at the one I had fallen into I could tell it was a deep violet. Then, I scanned the rest of the room.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, I slumped down against a wall but I dared not to close my eyes. Instead, I pulled out my sketchbook and opened it onto the page of the girl in the dress. I could almost imagine her dance around the page, a big smile on her face.

Without thinking I pulled out my pencil and turned to a clean page. Not paying attention to what I was exactly creating, I drew in the dimness, my eyes focusing more and more on the lines I applied. By the time I broke free from my trance, I noticed two blurred figures, standing next to one another. And from the way their faces were angled, I could tell they both looked at me. Apparently, I had drawn vague traces of smiles upon their kind faces. The smaller figure seemed to be calling for me, reaching out her hand to me. The thought of meeting such a pretty girl made me happy. She seemed so very fun to be around. The taller figure was a male. His hair was curly and his one visible eye was narrowed in a thoughtful way. Although he didn’t welcome me like the girl, I could tell he wished for my company as much as her. Rubbing my temple and wiping off the graphite on my left hand, I sat there, staring aimlessly at the drawing, as if waiting for it to talk to me so that I would feel less lonely.

That’s what it was… I was lonely. Something about the chasm I was in was unsettling. And despite somehow knowing that there were many things that lived their own life in that place, I felt alone.

Out of nowhere, I knew what I had to do. In that painting,  _ Fabricated World _ , there had been three figures in a scene behind them. I had to find that scene. There, I would also find those three people for sure.

With raging determination, I speedily packed away my sketchbook and pencil before jumping to my feet. There was only one door. Behind it, I guessed there were only more corridors. Taking a deep breath, I walked over and turned the door knob.

It was locked.

On either side of the door stood a statue. Both had no head. Shivering, I stepped back, feeling anxious all of a sudden. They looked identical to the drawing I had made. In my dreams, they moved and, gathering from everything so far, I wouldn’t be particularly surprised if these moved like they did in my dreams. Without purpose. Not knowing which direction they were going into. Helpless. Abandoned.

My sympathies vanished abruptly however, for one of them lurched forwards and tried to grab my rose. Calling out, I darted back and around a corner. Speeding on, I noticed a crack in the floor, too big to step over.

Instantaneously, I accelerated and with a big jump, cleared the distance across the fault. I looked back and saw the headless statue wander about. The other had followed it and a feeble way, trying to feel around. I watched them walk, approach me, and then fall through the gap in the floor.

After what seemed like hours, I finally heard the smashing of stone and I grimaced, feeling pity once more. These creations had been brought to life without any real purpose. They were disabled to live free; only roaming those corridors in search of something that could help them escape. Their situation must not have been so different from mine. Scowling, I shook my head. I had to remember they were only creations. They weren’t made with any intention other than to convey emotion to those whose eyes looked upon them.

My legs felt like jelly. As soon as I returned to the situation at hand, I took some steps back and quickened a steady pace and jumped over the crack once more, speeding back to the door. However, it was still locked and I covered my mouth as I cursed. Something I rarely ever did. Sighing, I looked around for clues. On the walls, there was one paintings.

_ Heartbeat. _

For some reason, my hand slid over my heart. A painful throb came from it just as the painting moved, reflecting a steady beat. After listening for several minutes, I realised that it represented my own. Frowning, I watched it for a bit longer.

Eventually however, I realised I had to get going and with a quick glance back at the door, I mumbled something incoherent as I ran back, jumping once more over the crack and heading instead for a door at the end of that side. A door which I had earlier not noticed.

With a steady click, it released and I walked through cautiously. My eyes darted around, scanning another red room. In it were more bookcases. In the middle though, there was a painting. Upon approaching it, I spotted the title.

_ Milk Puzzle _

However, the canvas was empty and below it lay a pile of pale, pearly white puzzle pieces, jumbled up in a random manner. I placed my bag down and kneeled in front of the pieces.

I read somewhere that milk puzzles were supposed to be much harder. Although from what I had seen, they seemed rather boring because they made no picture in the end…

None the less, I separated all the pieces carefully before starting with the outer rim, puzzling all the pieces together while looking at the sizes of their slots so as not to make too many mistakes.

After thirty minutes of puzzling however, I groaned. By multiplying the number of pieces on either side, I worked out the puzzle consisted of two-hundred-and-fifty pieces. Grumbling, I continued, starting to hum to myself quietly. That helped ease the tension a little and my shoulders relaxed.

Another thirty minutes later, I was actually starting to enjoy myself a little bit. The first three rims were done. Yawning, I sighed and stood up to take a quick break. Picking up my bag, I pulled out the lunchbox of macaroons and opened it. Then, I popped the lavender one in my mouth and chewed thoughtfully as I stared back at the puzzle pieces. The flavour of the macaroon was a little odd, but quite enjoyable if I were honest, it tasted like very sweet lavender. Lavender had always been my second favourite scent after roses. I didn’t care whether that was old-fashioned of me.

The macaroon however, boosted my thought process and within the next fifteen minutes, I sped through the last bit of the puzzle. Looking down, satisfaction coursed through my body. The only strange thing I noticed was that nothing happened. Thus far, whenever I had unlocked a door, it made a loud click. Skimming around the room, I tried thinking of something else I might have to do. Then, I looked back at the empty canvas and it suddenly clicked.

Lining up the puzzle on the floor directly below the canvas proved a difficult task, but I succeeded none the less and with a cheerful grin I started placing each individual piece. As I had suspected, the puzzle pieces stayed put once I placed them on the empty picture. Although constantly kneeling was a tiring job, I kept going until I finished. Once I had placed the middle piece, the pleasing knock came from afar and I nodded slowly as I rubbed my icy hands together. Picking up the lunchbox and placing it in my bag before swinging it over my shoulder, I departed from the room, quietly closing the door behind me.

I jumped once more and walked over to the door, which stood ajar. Squeezing through, I closed that door too once passed through. I stood faced, like I had anticipated, with more corridors. There was one but it split off into two different ones. Frowning, I stared down both for a while before closing my eyes and letting my heart determine which one I was going to take.

After a seemingly immense amount of time I decided upon going right. I followed the narrowing corridor with a timid step, wondering whether another mannequin head was going to come down and flatten me properly. Luckily, no such thing happened and I could pass through quietly.

I bit my lip as I stared up at the gigantic door. The narrow corridor had lead through the last red door and into a chilly, blue crystal chamber of which the ceiling was at least twenty feet high. Straight ahead of me, stood a big, heavy oak door it seemed. In it a rose crest was inserted. It was blood red and glowed very dimly. Looking down, I noticed that in response, my own rose glowed in sync with the door. Carefully, I strode over until I was stood in front of the entrance. Just below the rose crest was a title.

_ Longing. _

I couldn’t remember that name and I frowned slightly. Reaching up, my free hand placed over the red rose crest and once again, my eyes shut, imagining the scene in the Fabricated World picture. Without realising, I leant against the door ever so slightly and it gave way under my light pressure and I fell forward.

The room I fell into was white; brighter than any of the rooms I had been in for a very long time. It was even brighter than the real world. I realised however, that room did not describe the place. It was a hall. White marble pillars, twenty feet high were lined up on either side of it, supporting the ceiling. I barely noticed it though because, at the far end there was another empty portrait. Much larger this time. Below it on the other hand, lay something.

From where I stood it looked like a purple and marine-blue coloured splodge. Immediately, my pace quickened until I was flat out running.

This was the place in the Fabricated World painting. Surely that was one of the people I had seen in it. Running as hard as I could, I headed for the slumped figure.

After thirty seconds, I slowed, my breath uneven. With a deep sigh, I gave in and grinded to a halt, staring at the thing. Only then did I notice, I wasn’t any closer to it than I had before. Checking, I looked backwards and sure enough, the door was still right behind me. Had I really been running?

Quickly, I slid my fingers in my neck and pressed a vein. My heartbeat was faster than usual and a light sheen of sweat clung to my forehead. Frowning, I took on a walking pace, looking ahead once more. After another thirty seconds, I glanced back at the door again. It was still right behind me. Was I meant to do something? Or was I just not supposed to reach the far end of the hall?

Next, I thought I’d try to see whether there was a certain pathway. Each time I had placed one step, I looked back to see if the door was still there; every time I looked back, it was still behind me as if I had literally just passed through it.

Out of sheer frustration, I turned to the figure and bellowed across the empty space.

“Hey, can you hear me!?” No response came. Not even a single tiny movement from what I could see. Exasperated, I rolled my eyes and turned to face the door and then walking backwards. That was when it worked. I steadily moved backwards and towards the door. After ten seconds however, I glanced back to see how far I had progressed and I bit back a scream as I saw nothing had changed. And when I looked back the door was once before me again.

Trying again, I willed myself not to look back. The backwards walk lasted a minute or so. As I thought I drew closer, my pace slowed. Taking a little longer in the last couple of feet, I contemplated who and what the figure would be. And then I collided with it. As a result, I lost my footing and fell back. Toppling over the figure and closed my eyes, holding onto the figure tightly. Once I had landed, I dared to open my eyes. The first thing I noticed was that I was still by the figure and no longer back at the beginning. This brought relief. But that relief soon vanished as I turned around, still holding on to the figure for dear life in case the room decided to be cruel and reset itself again. I looked at the painting title.

_ Forgotten Portrait. _

My insides went cold. As I looked down at the body I had fallen over my stomach churned painfully and I suddenly felt sick.

On the floor lay a male. His outline was long and sprawled out. From his expression, I noticed he seemed to be asleep. There was seemingly no movement in his chest however. Not even a hint of it rising and falling. His colour however, was that of a living man. There were deep circles under his eyes however, much like under my own. Messy, lavender hair curls framed his face. He wore the strangest coat which covered a green shirt and some khaki trousers.

All forms of irritation at the room vanished as panic settled in my stomach and I climbed into a better position to help the male.

“Hey…Can you hear me?” No response came from the figure however and I placed my bag and rose down carefully, reaching over and moving the hair from his face. His skin was like marble, it felt cold and brittle. Changing my position again, I grabbed his hand with both my hands and closed my eyes, yearning for some heat to conduct through my hands and into his. My wish wasn’t granted. The male continued to rest lifelessly upon the floor. Biting my lip, I suddenly knew what to do. Although the idea was stupid, I had to try it.

What seemed to keep me alive was my rose. If the male was human, which he looked most definitely, then he needed a rose too. So far, this gallery, and what was left of my memory, told me that anything can come to life when you put your heart into it. With that thought, I scrambled over and grabbed my bag, yanking out my sketchbook and flipping it over onto a new page. Immediately, I drew the outline of a rose. I cursed however as I messed up after several minutes. Tearing out the paper, I started again but after several more minutes, I screwed it up again. Agitated, I fought back tears. I had to help him. Something told me he was suffering. He wasn’t meant to be there. I had to help him.

“Please…I’m trying.” A sob escaped my lips as I tried to calm myself down. Stifling more tears, the sketchbook fell from my slackening grip and I raised my hands to help stop the crying.

“Please…Don’t be afraid…You’re only sleeping. It’s just a dream.” I assured the male as I gently held my face.

It took me several minutes however, to calm myself down. When I eventually managed to keep a steady hand, I paused for a little longer, taking the time to breathe in and out. In and out. Then, I picked up the materials again and relaxed. My hand made the lines smoothly and I sunk into the drawing.

By the time I finished the sketch, the rose was complete and in full bloom. Something was missing from it though and almost straight away, I knew what it was. Colour. Like my red rose, this man had a coloured rose.

Blue was his colour. I knew that now. After realising that he was the Forgotten Portrait, I knew blue was  _ his  _ colour. But with a heavy pound on my heart, I realised there was no way I could colour that rose blue. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I scavenged around my bag, pulling out the letter, the lighter, the lunchbox… There was nothing else there. Then, as I closed my bag again after putting everything back, I noticed it. The Coughing Man. He had coughed over my bag and my face. I had completely forgotten about it. There was a thick splodge of acrylic paint on the side of my bag. The one thing I knew about acrylic paint was that it would be usable again if you added a liquid. Trying not to think too much about how disgusting it was what I did, I spat onto the blob of blue paint and rubbed it with my finger in a circular motion carefully. Retrieving my finger, I smiled triumphantly. My theory had been right, the paint stuck to my hand. Carefully, I coloured the rose’s petals, hoping I didn’t have to use green for the rest. The essence of the rose was that the petals were blue. Surely the rest didn’t matter. Upon finishing the work, I stared at it. Then I added my signature and closed my eyes, picking up the wet painting and pressing it to my heart quietly.

Suddenly, a throbbing pain ignited in my head and I groaned, dropping the painting which had smudged slightly. I supported my temples with my blue fingertips. My breath became irregular and quick as it came back to me.

_ It would seem we wound up in very similar situations, I have to say… _

_ Even down to these roses. Wounds appear on me when my rose loses its petals. _

_ I thought I was a goner back there… Thank you for getting it back. _

_ Now first thing’s first, we’d better find a way out. _

_ I think I’ll go mad if I stay in this dreadful place for too long. _

It was him! The Forgotten Portrait. I remembered. He had helped, saved and supported me so many times all those years back. It was he, who had been the blurry figure in my memory. Always.

More tears came, continuing from earlier. They lasted much longer, but I let them roll down my cheeks and down onto my knees. The male, sprawled beside me, lifeless and forlorn, was the one that deserved to live above anyone else.

_ I can’t very well let a girl wander into danger. No, no. So I’ll go with you. Okay? _

Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be alone back then, or that he felt pity upon me, being as young as I was. But somewhere, deep inside of my heart, I knew what it was. Compassion, empathy and love…And without noticing it, those very same emotions had converted into worry, sadness and suffering. Those emotions were what had been keeping me awake for the five years that had followed. It had been those feelings that had kept me connected to the male. A male I still could not remember the name of.

With tear stained eyes, I turned and looked at the male still on the floor, motionless. I closed my eyes one final time, recalling the times where he had shrieked, laughed and called out my name.

_ Ib? _

_ Ib… _

_ IB!!! _

My hands slid down to cover my heart. To protect it. To keep it inside, for it felt as if my chest was going to explode any second with sorrow and pain. He needed to live. It was not fair. Why was he on the floor and not me? He was the kind one. He was the empathetic one. He was the one that needed to be alive. Not me…

_ Ah, I still haven’t asked your name. My, that was rude of me! _

_ Well, my name is… _

“Garry…” It came to me so suddenly that I frightened myself. But that was his name. I finally remembered. Garry. It had been Garry all along. And with a sudden hatred for myself, I smacked my own face because I had not remembered his name before, despite being able to recall his face and voice. A couple of final tears slid down my face. Then, I looked down at the painting of the rose and my eyes widened with unexpected astonishment. There, upon the slightly damp, tear-stained paper, lay a brilliant, bright, electric-blue rose in full bloom.

Stunned I picked it up in my hand and examined it. It felt real and living. A smile broke my icy features like a ray of sunshine. I had done it. I had made him a rose, and it was tangible. With a broad smile spread across my face, I turned to look at the sleeping male, wondering whether it had any effect on him.

My smile faltered. He hadn’t moved. Dormant, he lay upon the cold, hard floor. Tears were about to erupt, my heart not being able to bare any more ache.

And then his eyes opened…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not the easiest coming up with puzzle ideas that Ib and Garry might come across; I thought it fun to involve the readers a little bit. If anyone has any suggestions let me know. I can probably interpret them into the story.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!~
> 
> P.S. I also apologise if the writing is a bit tedious. It's quite hard getting all the opening chapters sorted; but thanks to all who can bear with me!
> 
> P.P.S. I know there's some errors here and there; I'm just keen to get the chapters up. I update them every so often to get rid of as many mistakes as I possibly can ^^


	4. Chapter 4

His striking azure eye wandered from side to side as he recovered himself. Silence befell me as I stared in awe at the man, who before my very eyes, breathed once more. He'd been resurrected from an eternal sleep by my desires. But I felt sad as I watched his puzzled and bewildered expression. His only visible eye was wide while he stared around the white room which, around me, felt like it darkened with every second. He raised his hands and looked at them wildly before glancing down at the rest of him. At his crinkled shirt and jeans and then at his strange coat.

_ Should I have let him sleep? _

“Garry?” My voice spoke somewhere in the far distance. I however, was only vaguely aware of what happened. All I realised, was that his eye abruptly focused on me, still wide with wonder. For longer than a minute, he stared at me in utter silence, taking in the fact that there was another being there with him.

“Oh!” Lighter than a feather, his voice balanced on the air, a seemingly almost perfect harmony. Tension of which I had been unaware, vanished with the ocean wave that was his voice. Worry was the last thing I felt. Garry was alive. Garry was here. Garry was with me.

“Are you lost?” With a cold smack in the face, I was brought back to reality. Concern showed in his expression as he sat up.

“You seem upset...Did you perhaps end up in this dreadful place as well?” A soft smile illuminated his whole face with warmth. He moved closer in a compassionate way, his arms almost reaching out to embrace me… But he never did hug me. It was as if he was meeting a stranger; as if he was unaware.

Years on end, I had been bothered by his face. His dazzling face. Been unable to sleep or think properly. And after all that time, it seemed he wasn’t any wiser about me. But he remembered nothing. I could tell. In his eyes, it was visible that for him, this was the first time meeting me.

“Garry?” I pronounced his name once again, my voice growing humbler by the moment. Again, his eye met mine curiously.

“Do…Do we know each other.” As if a grand piano came crashing down, my heart started throbbing heavily. All colour drained from my face as my hands started shaking uncontrollably. The more he stated he didn’t recollect, the more agonising my throbbing chest became. I had to bite down hard onto my lip to prevent a wail from emitting. I wanted to curl up into a ball and die. The one person I had ever been remotely close to that wasn’t family… Had no memories of me.

He didn’t remember me. And from his expression, I could tell that he, the man that had so frequently saved me from going insane inside of Guertena’s gallery, remembered absolutely nothing about me. What else had he forgotten in those 5 years of sleep? I wiped my eyes for any remnant tears. I couldn’t smile. No way. It felt as if I had been drained of all happiness. I was sure to never smile again.

Despite constantly telling myself this over and over, and repeatedly forcing myself to realise that fact, it hurt. Oh, it hurt so very bad. Something inside my mind clicked though.

I had to stay calm. It would be unfair of me to push the many memories we made back upon him. Surely, it was now my responsibility to keep him calm as well. With great difficulty I spoke, forcing myself to keep a straight face.

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to startle you, but I think this is yours.” With that, I picked up the blue rose and handed it to him, trying to keep from hyperventilating. Of course, he took it with a nonplussed air. Then, his face split into a stunning smile which only made the pound on my heart heavier.

“Ah…Thank you. Gosh, this sure is pretty, isn’t it?” He examined the rose with an impression of astonishment. I bit back my reply, thinking it would sound strange to him if he didn’t remember me.

“You seem a little lost yourself.” I managed to choke out while he continued to look at the rose clutched in his hand.

“Yeah...It seems that way. I think I got too tired to move on so I sat down and took a nap. It was a pleasant nap. From what I can remember of my dream, I met a very nice, young girl, not too different looking from you.” If only he knew how much those words hurt my heart. Biting my lip, I kept more of those horrid emotions inside.

“Really?” I spoke solemnly as I gazed into his eye and continued to say: “Well… seeing as both of us are lost, why don’t we stick together and get out of this place?” Garry blinked twice.

“Wait…This is Guertena’s gallery correct? I remember! This place was bizarre. I can recall a painting, stealing what was my life...” With that said, Garry glanced down at his rose once more, realisation dawning on him.

“This is my life, isn’t it?” He questioned perplexed by the flower once more. Remembering what I had read in the book I quoted part of it.

“You and the rose are unified, know the weight of your own life…” I noticed Garry nodding absently.

“Yes...It seems these roses are very important.” Spoke the male in a distant tone as his eyes drifted from his own rose to mine, which was still placed on the floor beside my open bag. Then, his eye flickered back up to me.

“Thank you, for getting it back. Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Garry, and you are?” Another smile broke the sincere aura lingering in the air. He had apparently already forgotten I had called his name at least three times.

“Ib…” Was all I said with a frown.

“Ib you say. Well, your plan sounds splendid. From what I recollect, I don’t think I want to amble around this dreadful place alone, so let us find a way out together.” Despite feeling sad, a very small smile settled on my lips at his surprisingly cheery attitude. This perhaps wasn’t the Garry I remembered, but it was Garry. And even if seeing him so unknowing hurt, I felt the slightest bit of comfort at being able to smile with him all along.

Feeling rather confused myself, I slowly got up to my feet, holding out a slim hand for him. He took it and I shivered. He was still stone cold, although I could vaguely feel a tiny little bit of warmth behind that icy skin.

“Let’s get going then.” I proclaimed tentatively as I picked up my bag and swung it over my shoulders once more, to which he only smiled another one of his stunning smiles.

As I turned around to walk back down to the far door, I jumped. The door was right in front of me again. Shocked, I turned to Garry who was luckily still beside me. He tilted his head, a little concerned.

“Are you okay Ib?” He asked curiously. Before thinking, I nodded. Turning back to the door, I opened it and felt a sigh of relief slipping from my mouth as it opened. I motioned for Garry to follow me which he obliged to. With a new light-heartedness, I managed to proceed back into the hallway. Garry seemed a little tenser. Honestly though, I couldn’t blame him, even if it did frustrate me that he didn’t remember me. I wasn’t going to force him to remember. If I really had to, I would make new memories with Garry.

In the hallway, there were still three doors. The one through which I had earlier come, the wooden door with the red rose jewel inside of it. Beside my door as it seemed, was another door. That one encrusted with a blue rose gem. Under it stood an engraved title of  _ Dream _ .

Garry stirred beside me and I looked to the side. The male was staring at the rose in his hand and then at the gem in the door. Like me, he walked up to his door and held the rose to his chest, almost connecting him to the gem. With a magnificent click, the door swung open. Garry looked back at me with a soft smile, his hair blowing in a non-existent breeze coming from the black doorway.

Without saying anything, I walked over to his side once more and he let me through the opening first before following himself.

Once inside, the door swung shut wildly and Garry shrieked. He stared back around with a widened eye and sighed with relief when he realised it was nothing major. It was only afterwards that he paced back to the door. I watched him as he turned the knob of the door. The man’s face fell as he was unable to open it again. I only distantly listened to him mutter and rummage with the door as I walked into the middle of the blackened space. It certainly was strange. Around what seemed to be the rim of the room were doors. Many of them. They were all the same colour and material so that it would be impossible to tell through which doors you had already been. A sudden wave of discomfort washed over me and I backed away, looking at one door. Out of all the doors, that one had caught my attention first.

Somewhere a little further away, I heard Garry giving up and turning around to inspect the room the same way I had. I could hear his grumbling voice die.

“What is this place?” He asked aimlessly o which I shook my head slowly and said: “I don’t know, but it’s not giving me any good vibes.” Garry had caught up to my side and stared around the room.

“Well...Nothing good will come from just standing here...Let’s just start with one door and come back if it doesn’t work out.” Although it seemed like a terrible idea, I’m sure both of us agreed on that, it was our only option.

“We could work faster...And split up…” Said Garry as a soft afterthought.

I spun around wildly, my eyes filled with horror at his words.

“Please! Let’s not…” Immediately, Garry had realised what he had said and he nodded his head.

“Of course, I’m sorry. What was I thinking…” An awkward silence befell us. So as to have something to do, I walked back over to the door we had come through which I could luckily still distinguish from all the other similar doors. The paint on my bag was still slightly wet. Dipping the tip of my finger in, I reached out and drew a small X on the door. When I turned back around, I noticed Garry watching me with a tilted head. Before he could ask I explained.

“These doors all look the same...It’s probably best to somehow mark it so that we don’t constantly try to reopen the same doors.” A flicker of understanding passed through his eyes, I saw it.

“Alright then, you choose a door first.” I continued as I wiped my finger dry on my wrist. I would have blue hands at the end of the day. Garry turned back around and suddenly pointed at a door.

“That one.” Nodding, I walked up to the door together with him but before either of us could open it, the door creaked open of its own accord. Garry’s brow creased while the colour left my cheeks. Neither of us said anything again as we made our way through the door opening. Behind us, the door stayed open however. Garry most likely thought it best to keep it that way for he refused to close it, instead opening it a little wider.

The walls inside the hallway we stood in were a deep indigo, much like the far sky just after a sunset. My body tensed as another cold draught passed through the hallway. Garry’s gasp however, caught my attention and I looked at him. His face was turned upwards and I followed his gaze. Op on the ceiling, or where should have been the ceiling was the night sky. Stars twinkled in the far distance, beaming down upon the two of us. Feeling even more uneasy, I subconsciously moved closer to the male for protection.

However, something caught my eye. On the far side of the hallway was another painting. Upon nearing it, I could read a title of  _ Marvellous Night _ .

And just as I read the title, Garry said: “This is a marvellous looking night, isn’t it?” Perhaps he was still dazed from his long sleep but the fact he was so relaxed unnerved me ever so slightly. Turning to look at Garry, I couldn’t help but suppress a giggle. He looked even goofier when he tried to reach out for the ceiling. Hearing me, he glanced at me, his cheeks flushing pink slightly.

“Sorry...My, I must seem childish to you Ib.” Said the male as he raked a hand through his messy hair timidly while avoiding any more eye contact with me. I said nothing on the other hand which must have been the wrong move because I felt the air between us become only more awkward.

“Let’s keep moving.” Said Garry, trying to sound nonchalant. I wandered about with him, trying to find the purpose of the space. A door led us into a chamber which, like the hallway, had the night sky as its ceiling. Garry went and inspected several bookcases while I snuck into the corner of the room, where there was a giant tree sculpture. Under it, I went through my bag, checking whether everything was still there. Then, I proceeded to rummage in the pockets of my skirt and withdrew my handkerchief from the left pocket. I bit my lip and decided to wipe the remaining wet paint off my hands before placing the handkerchief in my bag as well.

Very suddenly, I felt so tired. My legs gave way under my body and I collapsed onto my knees just as I was trying to stand back up. Garry hadn’t noticed yet. That was good. Sighing, I let my body have its way, sitting down and looking up at the night. Eventually I got bored of craning my neck too much and lay down, facing the ceiling.

In the night sky, I spotted the constellations.

“Guertena must have based this of the real night sky…” I wondered as my eyes narrowed to mere slits to gaze specifically on one part of the night. Out of the blue, Garry appeared beside me, standing with an open book in his hand.

“Yes, it does seem that way, doesn’t it?” Garry closed the book quietly and glanced down at me, just lying there.

“Are you going to be alright Ib, or do you wish to rest a little while longer.” Shaking my head, I got up while he went back to return the book. I yawned slightly just as he turned back and he laughed softly.

“You must be tired though. Let me know when you can’t keep your eyes open any longer okay Ib, we’ll find a quiet place where you can rest.” With a deep breath, I showed a smile to the man. We left the room and crossed the hallway. In the room opposite there was a set of stairs. Garry let me go first. I counted sixteen steps. Once at the top, the two of us turned right and came face to face with a floor painting. There was no title beneath to go with it and I frowned. I looked deeper and, upon inspection, it looked more like a hole in the floor, rather than art. I couldn’t see the floor below though. Garry moved in a very similar fashion to me. Straightening back up, I looked around just in time to see the painting behind us, which I had previously not spotted, come to life. A scream left my lips as the sound of shattered glass sounded. Before Garry could turn around or I could move him out of the way, the thing that had come out of the painting pushed us into the hole and both of us shrieked with terror.

Our fall lasted at least ten seconds. In those ten seconds, I saw strange celestial bodies I had never seen before. I counted eight of them and bit my lip, my vision darkening as I collided with a heavy thump. Hearing Garry groaning reassured me that we weren’t separated. Thank goodness. It was only then, that I noticed where exactly Garry was. And suddenly, I realised the warmth underneath me was his and not the floor’s. My eyes sprang open, my cheeks going crimson and sure enough. Garry had landed front first while I had toppled onto him with my back on top of his. Panicking, I got up quickly, realising I must be straining him. Lucky for me, Garry regained himself after I had gotten off his back. Avoiding eye contact with the male, I turned to inspect the room instead.

In the centre of the room was a large treasure box. On the wall, ahead of us were two displays, both of which showed a celestial body. A small button was placed underneath either display and in between the two of them stood a small sign. Approaching it I read:  _ Which Celestial body was not present? _

Clicking the button underneath one of the bodies changed it. The left display converted from a green planet into a red giant. Garry had meanwhile gotten up as well and I quickly informed him of what I think we had to do.

“Do you remember which one these wasn’t there?” He asked me curiously as I switched between the six different options on one of them and then moved over to the other to do the same.

“I don’t remember this purple one being there.” Said I with confidence as the purple planet with rings appeared. I popped back to the other. However, I wasn’t positive on that one. I ended up going with a pale blue planet that I couldn’t recall.

Garry turned to the treasure box just as I did. Both of us walked over to stand in front of it. Quietly I raised my hand to try and open it. A raspy voice abruptly came from it at the slightest touch.

_ “Want me treasure!? _ ”

“Uhm...Yes please…”

_ “Solve the puzzle on the wall.” _

“I have.”

_ “Are you sure?” _

“Yeah.”

I shrieked. Fangs showed from the box’s edges as it bit at my rose. It succeeded to tare a petal off and I groaned in pain, one hand clutching tightly onto my rose while the other grabbed the fabric of my shirt, directed right over my heart.

“Ib!” Garry, who stood beside me, pushed me back from the box who was still trying to grab my rose. Slowly, the treasure box stopped thrashing and went shut eye again. Panting heavily, I willed myself to tell Garry I was okay, just taken aback but okay. The two of us slowly calmed down like the treasure box had.

“Thank you, Garry…” I smiled kindly at him before getting back up.

“I might have to go upstairs again to have another look at the celestial bodies.” I murmured quietly while I shivered once more at the thought of having another petal lost to the rage of the treasure box.

“Do you want me to come with you Ib?” At that I shook my head gently.

“It’s fine. You wait here. I’ll be right there.” I assured him as I ran through the door which happened to be unlocked. Swinging around the corner, I opened the door to the stairs, ran up them again and paused as I hovered above the gaping hole once more. I couldn’t close my eyes though. I had to know which celestial bodies.

It ended up taking longer than I had anticipated. After another four jumps, I was finally sure of the ones that weren’t there.

When the treasure box eventually opened, Garry and I both saw part of a painting. But when I reached out to grab it, it vanished.

After that, the two of us decided that there was nothing left to do in the marvellous night scene so we departed towards the door room once more. I made sure the blue cross was on the door.

Garry told me to choose the next room, which I happily did.

My luck however, seemed to be getting worse and worse. Inside of the room we were in, were many paintings of the Lady in Red, Green, Yellow and Blue.

As I had expected, things turned out for the worse. In the end, we ended up frantically running around, dodging the crawling paintings, narrowly escaping them each time. Garry was speedy when he was scared. He was also very jumpy however. In all honesty, I think that frightened me more than being chased. In the end, we did manage to find another painting piece which also vanished.

Then, the pair of us ran for the door that led back to the door room. Garry needed a quick rest but I yelped, mortified. I looked around wildly for my bag. It was nowhere to be seen however.

Rather out of breath, Garry looked up at me, bewildered.

“My bag.” I exclaimed as I continued to frantically look around.

Panting, Garry said: “It. must. Still. Be in that...Room!” He gasped slightly and forced himself to stand up straight.

“I need to go back. You stay here.” I said seriously as I ran back for the door.

“Ib!” Before I could go through, Garry pulled me back by the shoulder.

“You shouldn’t go...Just wait here alright. I’ll go get it.” He murmured as he finally seemed to catch his breath. With creasing brows, I watched him tentatively.

“No… Garry, it’s my bag. I should go get it.”

“No arguing. I won’t be long.” Spoke the man and, with a vague smile he ruffled my hair.

“You wait here.” And with that, he opened the door, took a deep breath and vanished behind it.

I flailed my arms in exasperation and frustration.

“He’s too selfless!” I shouted angrily as I considered going after him. His words came back to me however and I sighed, taking a seat in front of the door. I was going to wait for him. Right there and then, on that spot.

Why did he do this, to him, he’d only barely known me. And to be frank, he seemed even more odd than all those years ago.

What felt like an hour passed by and I had started running my fingers through my hair pensively, contemplating the outcome of telling Garry the truth.

It was then, that I heard something. Vague. Distant. Remote. Looking up vigilantly, I noted a sweet melody. Was that… a piano? When I listened more intently, I could most definitely confirm I was indeed hearing the ivories of a piano. It was rather peculiar to hear piano playing in such a secluded area.

Curious, I scrambled up to my feet once more and walked around, passing all the doors while listening in closely to see whether the tunes came from that room.

I paused. There, behind the same door that had earlier given me consistent shivers was where the sound came from. Vacillating, I looked around for a sign of Garry. Nothing.

I turned back to the door and slid my hand around the handle, twisting it warily, preparing myself.

However, when I opened the door, the last thing I would have assumed to see, displayed itself before my very own eyes…


	5. Chapter 5

Garry was before my very own eyes. Or, something that looked exactly like Garry. I couldn't move or do anything as I gaped at the scene before me. As I had suspected, there was indeed someone playing a piano, but it was one of the freaky headless statues. Garry was in the middle of what looked like a dance floor, swinging around, his long coat billowing behind him while he held into another headless statue.

In utter shock, I watched the two dance. The space in between Garry and his dance partner got progressively smaller and I felt a knot in my stomach even though I knew that couldn't be Garry. When the final note of the piece arrived, Garry halted, his body right up against the one of the headless statue and from where I stood, I could hear what he said in that velvety tone.

"You, are a terrible dancer dear. Honestly." A chuckle followed what he said. The headless statue who was still mobile crossed her arms as if angry and stomped away into a far corner. It was only then, that I noticed there were many headless statues surrounding the dancefloor. And two seconds after realising that, I took a step back. Statues turned and noticed me. One went straight for me, lunging forward to grab onto my rose.

"Leave her alone!"  Boomed Garry's voice throughout the hall. The statue froze one foot away from me. Just over the top of it, I saw Garry undo his shoes and sigh in content as he freed his feet. Chucking his shoes aside he turned to me.

"Alright. That's enough. Back up will you." The statues obeyed as Garry drew closer to me. And then, he was right in front of me, staring down his nose with a narrowed eye as if suspicious of me. He then smiled a mischievous smile as he held out his hand, getting onto one knee before me.  
"Would you care to dance with me...Lady Ib." He winked at me playfully and before I could respond, he'd pulled me into his arms and we were dancing to another sweet melody. It was like riding the wind, every movement we made was so easy and light.

"How do you know my name?" I asked aimlessly. The man holding me, chuckled softly and shook his head while he led us.

"I thought you'd remembered me Ib." A smirk plastered on his face.  
"But you can't be Garry." I exclaimed. His grip on me tightened and I winced. His face leaned in, our foreheads almost touching. I noticed his grip could have been that of a statue it was so firm.

"Do you really think being in this place for god knows how many years isn't going to mess with my head Ib? Goodness, you have some learning to do." Garry chuckled once more as one of his arms snaked around to place in the small of my back. He lifted me off my feet slightly as he swung me around in circular motions, the world around us blurring.

"You and I have some catching up to do… I'm king of this world now Ib." His words made me shiver violently. The music had meanwhile stopped but Garry continued to close the space between us, looking down at me closely. His magnificent deep blue eyes seemed to drown me like an ocean and I felt my body numbing. 

"But what about Mary, was she not the keeper of this place?" I only barely managed to get the words past my lips.

And then his grip was gone. Standing a foot away from me, he burst out laughing. The hollow laughter bounced off all the walls and I could see the statues quivering as if they were laughing as well. Wheezing slightly, he wiped away small tears in the corners of his eye.

"Mary?" He sniggered again before he said:"That naïve little girl? You have got to be kidding me." Once again, he burst out laughing, holding onto his stomach for support. Feeling even more flustered, I bowed my head slightly. A large hand placed on top of it and ran through my hair. Another violent shiver ran down my spine as he said the next words. His hand stretched out to move a lock of hair behind my ear as he tilted his head to one side with a smile that gave me the impression that he saw me as a kid.

“Ib, that was child's play. You're a big girl now…” The knot from earlier suddenly erupted and I felt sick. Headless statues all around me were holding their stomach with laughter while Garry stared at me with a smirk on his face while he watched. He raised one finger and although it was already silent, the statues halted with their movements and directed his body in such a way that made me feel as if they waited for his command. His eye then turned towards me again and he leant his head back, as if he was feeling particularly confident. It almost looked arrogant. It certainly wasn’t the Garry from my memories. This Garry was more like… The one in my dreams… The one that had pulled me into the painting…

“Let's get along okay Ib. I look forward to playing with you.” The male smiled and suddenly leaned in at super speed. Unprepared I flinched slightly at his abrupt movement. Fixing my eyes shut, I prepared for major impact. But when I least expected it, something incredibly cool pressed against my forehead. When I dared reopen my eyes, I was alone.

Garry was gone, as well as all the statues and the piano. Was I dreaming? I heard another voice, shouting my name in the far distance.

“Ib!”

Whipping around, I saw what I thought to be the real Garry, running towards me, my bag swung over his shoulder and his face ladened with worry.

“Ib, you ran off! I was worried.” The male exclaimed seriously, obviously out of breath once more.

This time, I ran to meet him. We both stopped and I let him catch his breath. He handed me my bag. I took it but dropped it straight away, abruptly hugging him.

“Ib?”

“Just let me have this moment.” I whispered softly. Immediately, Garry stopped objecting or questioning, which I was quite grateful for.

Hiding my face in his chest, I begged the moment to never end. Only a couple of seconds later, it did end however. I looked up at Garry and said: “I'm sorry.”

Garry nodded solemnly but then managed a small smile.

“That's okay Ib. Just tell me next time.” Absently, I nodded.

That was when I dared ask.

“Garry? What do you remember before you woke up to find me?” Garry, who had been watching me apprehensively, bit his lip slightly before answering.

“Well...I remember coming to visit the gallery. The lights went out out of nowhere and I found a staircase leading down to another gallery. I was attacked there by one of those strange ladies in blue. She took my rose and...I collapsed after managing to run away. When I woke up, I saw you.” He smiled faintly.

“And you said you had a strange dream…” I added just as he continued.

“Yes. From what I can recall I met a very young girl. She helped me find the exit to the gallery but...then my rose got lost and well...then I woke up to be honest.” Again, I nodded.

Either Garry was lying to me… Or he really didn’t know me and there was another Garry who did remember me…

By simply looking into the the eye of the Garry before me however, I knew he wasn’t lying. That left me thinking that the second option had to be the correct theory. And if that were the case, I would have to be careful.

If the other Garry had control over everything in the gallery like he had control over the statues, things could end up looking rather ugly if I weren’t careful.

“Ib?” Garry finally caught my attention, his face once again contorted with concern as he stared at my dazed face.

“Hey, are you okay Ib. Do you wish to rest?” Shaking my head, I picked up my bag and turned back to face him.

“I’m alright Garry, let’s keep going. I don’t think this is the place to rest anyway.”

“I agree, but if you’re tired, we’ll find a place.”

“Let’s just keep going.” I said, trying not to let what had happened just before bother me all too much.

Maybe it had all been an illusion. According to some people, I was crazy enough to come up with something. And maybe they were right, maybe there was something wrong with me. Maybe I was imagining all of this: the gallery, the memories and Garry…

“May I ask what’s in your bag Ib. You do seem awfully attached to it.” Spoke Garry, as he walked beside me, back into the door room, after I had placed another blue cross on the door to indicate we’d been inside that room.

“Just some things that mean a lot to me.” I replied quietly.

“Well… I don’t mean to nag, but can I know what’s in there?” Continued Garry as he walked up to a door and opened it into a green corridor. Distantly, I nodded and replied with: “A sketchpad and some snacks.” Garry smiled vaguely as the two of us walked in silence for a second.

I realised he was just trying to ease the tense air between us and I looked up at him.

“I have some drawings. Would you like to see them?” I asked tentatively. Maybe, if I showed him the drawings I had done, which I now knew were all depictions of him, Mary and the gallery, he would somehow remember the adventures we’d had.

“Oh! You’re an artist then Ib?” Asked Garry curiously in response as he eagerly watched me fish my sketchpad from my bag.

“I do a bit of drawing… That’s all.” I handed him the book and he opened it and immediately fell silent. Letting him inspect the drawings, I wandered off and found another vase. Dipping my rose in, the heaviness lightened as my rose glowed brightly once more.

After that, I returned to where Garry stood, still looking at my work. On closer inspection, I noticed his face was scrunched up as if he was in pain.

“Garry?” I asked timidly as I tried to catch his attention.

“S-sorry… My head is aching a little bit Ib.” He closed the sketchbook and beamed at me.

“Your art is amazing by the way. I like the girl in the dress. Who is she?” He didn’t remember Mary then. Well, it had been worth a try.

“No one.” I quickly answered as I placed the sketchbook back in my bag. Garry gazed at my bag without really looking at it and I looked to the side awkwardly. Suddenly snapping back to reality, Garry smiled at me once more.

“Keep up the great work Ib, maybe you’ll be famous one day.” Biting my lip, I nodded, not looking at the male beside me but instead at a painting on the wall that described how I was feeling all too well.

_Worry._

Slowly, I rubbed my hands together and glanced back at Garry, who was was rubbing his temple.

“Let’s figure out the puzzle here.” I suggested to which Garry nodded.

Upon inspecting the area a little further, I spotted a door. I walked over to it and opened it. Garry didn’t follow me however. Instead, he walked over to an empty piece of wall and I frowned, puzzled.

“Garry...There’s a door right here.” I said quietly. Garry turned around bewildered.

“What are you talking about Ib, there’s a door right here. It’s just wall where you’re standing.” Frowning, I turned back to the door I had just seen. It was still there.

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m holding the doorknob right now. You’re the one that’s standing in front of a blank wall.” Garry looked back similarly and then back, shaking his head.

“This place is messing with our heads.” He said seriously.

“I think only we can see our door… It must mean we have to split up… “ I said, thinking out loud.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea Ib, we’ve just been apart…” Said Garry with a raised eyebrow. I nodded quite simply and he sighed.

“Well… We’d have to solve the puzzle eventually so let’s get the separate ones over and done with. We’ll leave together nonetheless.” Saying nothing, I motioned my head slightly.

“Let’s meet back here when we’re done. Be careful Ib.” I didn’t see him vanish as I looked at my own door, but when I looked back, he was gone. Sighing, I turned the knob and stepped through the door, closing it behind me.

 

While my eyes got used to the dark once more, I hoped nothing would creep up on me. When my eyes did adjust, I was greeted by a flight of stairs going down. At the very bottom I could two yellow dots. Instantaneously, I knew they were eyes and I suppressed a grimace.

“Creepy…” I muttered, thinking of what the other Garry had said about it being childsplay.

“What does that mean?” Questioning it out loud, I descended down the stairs and noticed the yellow dots were gone, making another shiver run down my spine. The hair on my skin stood on end as I swore I heard a childish giggle resonate from far away. It sounded strangely familiar and without thinking I called out.

“Mary?” Trying not to bee too loud, I proceeded down the stairs and left into another corridor. At the far end were the yellow dots, seemingly watching me. Another giggle sounded somewhere, but I was more concerned about the louder noise coming from behind me. I spun on the spot and stared at where I had just come from, squinting my eyes so as to see better. Then, they widened as I realised what it was.

Thorns, the width of my wrist blocked the pathway I’d just come through, preventing me from going back. I cursed and ran back, tugging at them. They were tough and felt fake, but thank god were they not made out of stone. Growling internally I pulled at them with all my might. They only moved slightly. My brow creased and I took a step away. That was when I remembered the lighter in my bag. It was Garry’s but I’m sure he didn’t mind.

Sudden panic coursed through me as I looked through the bag because I heard something else. Pausing, I looked back up and around, staring back at where the yellow dots were. They flickered however, going out and then coming back on, over and over. With the flickering, I heard footsteps, very quiet footsteps. I wildly continued to search through my bag until my hand wrapped around the solid and cool metal lighter. Pulling my hand back out of the bag, I glanced behind me again. I saw a vague shape, black against the rest of the hallway. All heat drained from my face as I flicked the lighter open and tied to get a flame. I succeeded and held it up to the vines desperately. The steps broke out into a run and I screamed as I felt the impact of whatever it was that had collided with me. A strong grip held my wrist, pulling my arm behind my back while another force wrapped around my neck.

“No fires in the gallery…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for this chapter being a little shorter. However, I prefer to end the chapter at this point.  
> This coming week, I'll most likely not post, so the next chapter is hopefully due next weekend.


	6. Chapter 6

A single gasp left my lips as I felt something stinging in my back. My vision blurred and a certain impact landed against my head. Trying my hardest to focus my sight, I thrashed in whatever was holding me.

“Hold still already…”A very cold voice whispered, hot breath tickling against my ear. Immediately, I lost all ability to move and my eyes shut slowly.

“There’s a good girl.” As my consciousness slipped, those were the last words I heard before I passed out.

With a start, I sat up. When I did so, I noticed three things. One, I had a coat over me. Two, a soft humming came from the corner and three, there was a terrible ache in my back. My eyes watered as I sat up. As they opened however, the humming immediately stopped and I heard soft rustling.

“You’re awake then are you?” It was Garry. Almost straight away, I knew it wasn’t what I thought to be the real Garry. The real Garry didn’t smirk at me that way. Then it was his coat that lay over me. With a frown, I pulled it off and felt my back. Then, my eyes met the male, who was sitting with his legs cross, leaning on his elbow while he stared at me with a curious expression. My attention was disrupted however, as another stab of pain shot through my back and I turned, looking for whether there was a wound which I might be able to see.

“Does it hurt?” Garry had moved, standing up and appearing beside me, getting onto his knees. He kept his face a mere inch away from mine, staring at the side of it.

“Do you understand why I had to be like that Ib? You were about to do something awful… I couldn’t let you do that.” I shuddered at his darkening tone which was followed by a horrific snigger as he watched my expression. Too afraid to look into his eyes, I let him walk around to my back. Feeling his eyes upon it, I suppressed a groan of discomfort and I tensed my shoulders, ready for his hands to touch whatever he had inflicted on my back. They never did touch it however. I heard him get back up, slip on his coat again before he sat back in his corner. He’d been sitting on the head of a mannequin who seemed to be crying and smiling at the same time. Garry patted it gently and said something to it in a hushed tone while smiling, his hair falling slightly so it hid his eye.

“Tell me something.” I said, ignoring the pain in my back. Garry continued to hum softly, not looking at me.

“What is it?” He said calmly before continuing to hum his tune.

“Why are there two of you?”

“You mean why do you see two Garry’s?” I frowned at his statement.

“What?” It sounded stupid, I knew that, but his words really had confused me.

“Just because you see two of us doesn’t mean there  _ are  _ two of us Ib. There’s the one you left behind.” That stung badly. I felt very uncomfortable with how he’d phrased that. Garry continued however.

“And then there’s me, correct? That’s how your simple brain thinks.”

“Well, it was just a theory…” I admitted sheepishly as I attempted standing up, but failing miserably. I sighed desperately. Garry had gotten up once again and he was beside me in no time at all, his arms hooking under my armpit, lifting me up. Once I was on my feet, I thanked him out of habit and he chuckled, raking a hand through my hair thoughtfully, making the hairs on the back on my neck stand on end.

“Let’s just say, your theory is correct Ib and I was just an imposter, posing as your precious Garry… What would you call me?” He seemed genuinely interested. Frowning, I answered with: “Fake Garry…” For a moment, I felt the male behind me stiffen. He composed himself almost straight away however and simply chuckled.

“Fake Garry, you say? My, that doesn’t sound very appealing.” A flush of embarrassment settled in the pit of my stomach and out of nowhere I snapped at him.

“Then it suits you just perfectly.” I turned to see his eye slightly widened, his lips parted. The next moment he was smirking again.

“You’re cute when you’re angry...But I think I prefer you when you’re passive.” I was starting to get enough of this Garry and I continued in a hollow tone.

“Where’s the real Garry?” I wasn’t in the mood for being messed around with. The male removed his arms from under my armpits and shrugged.

“Why would I care, he means nothing to me.” A flourish of hatred coursed through my veins but I forced myself to bite it down, knowing that if I lost it, I’d give him exactly what he wanted.

“Now, as for you.” He finally turned his head to face me and the way his eye sparked, made my skin grow ice cold.

“It’d be best if you stick with me while the two of us are here. At least  _ I _ can protect you.” Another fowl smirk played around the corners of his mouth making me feel slightly uncomfortable.

“How am I going to believe you’ll protect me after what you just did!” I exclaimed, trying to be angrier, but flinching as a painful stab in my back caused me to stop mid-sentence when I tried to continue. When he leant forward, his fingers wrapped around something: my rose. In a wild attempt to retrieve it from him, I lunged, ignoring the painful throbs. The man raised an eyebrow at me and shook his head slowly as he walked off with it. I cried out desperately seeing another petal fall from it, leaving only one attached. Almost positive he was going to rip that one off as well, I shut my eyes, wishing I had said more to the  _ real  _ Garry.

My body abruptly felt lighter and calmer however. Daring to open my eyes once more, I glimpsed up. He stood back before me and held out a fully bloomed red rose, a smile on his face. A smile which, unlike the previous smirk, looked more genuine. Hesitantly, I took the rose from him, noticing that my back was no longer stinging as bad.

“Does that do anything for you?” He uttered calmly, watching my expression closely.

“Hardly…” Pursing my lip, I held the rose to my heart and sighed.

“But I'll admit that it’s some sort of evidence…” Tilting his head, his smile widened as I said that.

“I guess we’d better get going then.” Suddenly cheerful again, he started humming softly. It was probably something about the way he changed from a seemingly kind person to a complete maniac, that unnerved me to no end. However, from what I had seen, he seemed to know this world decently well so I eventually submitted and joined him by his side as he led us into another hallway, seemingly a lot lighter than any of the ones I had moved through before then.

“I've seen your drawings Ib. They're very good.” Garry spoke from beside me. I dared not to look at him as I bit my lip, holding on a little tighter onto my bag, which I only just remembered. Luckily, It hung safely around my shoulder.

“Your style is pleasant to look at.” The male returned to humming as he took the lead. Only briefly, I considered turning on the spot and running. However, with my legs aching and my back throbbing, I thought it a bad idea. Instead, I bowed my head down to watch my feet as I paced behind the tall man in front of me. When I did dare to look up at the back of his form, I felt a little frightened. The way he walked was so...Confident. At some point, he even had his hands in his pockets as we walked through hallways and rooms without coming across anything suspicious.  It was unnerving to watch someone that seemed so calm in a place such as this. Frowning, I contemplated everything he’d said to me prior.

_ King of this world _

It hit me suddenly. I hadn’t been sure what he exactly meant by those words but now. Based on the fact it was so quiet and Garry walked so confidently. He was like Mary now. Coming to life from his painting because he had enough desire to want to incarnate. But if he was like Mary, did that mean he was lonely too? Did he just want someone to hang out with him maybe? I looked back cautiously at the Garry in front of me who had stopped. Good thing I noticed because I narrowly avoided crashing into him.

“We can’t go in here.” He spoke as his finger pointed at something. I looked around his body and saw another red door. It was blocked by roses. Red roses. Garry seemed nonplussed by this but I darted around his figure and towards the door. I ran a hand over one of the roses and shivered. Fake.

When I looked back, puzzled, Garry was leaning on one leg, his arms crossed and his head tilted, staring at me with a smile.

“Red really is your colour is it not Ib?” His soothing voice spoke while he continued to watch me. Only faintly did I nod in response. Glancing back at the red roses I murmured something I didn’t want the fake Garry to hear.

“Let’s keep going Ib.” A hand suddenly took mine. Garry had taken it into his own hand gleefully, as if he had been waiting for an opportunity to hold it. In response, I tensed immediately. With a jerking movement, I pulled my hand out of his grasp and brought it up to hold my rose along with my other hand. As I turned away I could hear the fake Garry chuckle in a low voice. Sighing, I clenched tighter onto my rose. The knot in my stomach had intensified and I started feeling unwell again. Keeping it in front of me however, I took the lead. After only a couple of minutes I realised that that had been a bad decision. Despite concentrating on the view in front of me which mostly consisted of paintings, I could feel his eyes on me. Feel them looking up and down my figure. Uncomfortable was no longer the right word. Unsafe…

Whatever this Garry had planned, I needed to be ahead of him. I needed a backup plan in case things took a worst-case scenario. There was nothing I could think of though. Also, partially because I knew that the fake Garry had a much better chance to begin with because he knew this world. In fact, he claimed to be its king. As worrying as that sounded, it deemed rather painfully true. If he really was the king of this world then he had control over everything. Even the hallways themselves, as well as all the paintings and sculptures. I had to keep walking though; the stares I received almost unbearable. There was no way I could let him know I felt uneasy. And then, he suddenly groaned. Whipping around, I saw Garry leaning against a wall, his hand clenching onto his heart. His eye was closed and face contorted with pain.

“Garry?” I managed, confused because that expression was so familiar I had seen it before. Many years ago. Last time I had seen that he’d lost his rose to Mary. It was back then that I had seen him pull a similar expression.

Before I could do anything however, Garry was back on his feet, staring at me calmly.

“Sorry about that, I just felt a little queasy all of a sudden. I’m fine now.” He reassured. I on the other hand didn’t feel very reassured at all. In fact, I was confused as to what had just happened. His reaction had been similar to when the real Garry back then lost petals from his rose. His rose…

When I thought about it, it made sense. Mary had had a rose despite not being real. Did that mean that this fake Garry had a rose as well? Was that his weakness?

“Hey Ib!” Only then did I notice I had stopped moving and Garry was far ahead of me, standing in the door opening.

“Come and see this.” He beckoned me over with a wild grin. Excitement burned in his eyes; I could see that from where I stood. Carefully, I paced over and looked at what he was waiting so eagerly for me to see. My mouth dropped open in astonishment.

The fake Garry and I stood on the edge of what seemed to be some sort of cliff. Far below was only a black pit. On the far end I saw another cliff with a rainbow painted canvas. As I stared a little closer, I noticed a black door on the far side. That was most likely the door we needed to reach. I stared up to see a night sky, similar to the marvellous night painting I had earlier seen.

“I like this place. It hasn’t been here long really…” Said the fake Garry as he walked up to the edge of our side of the cliff.

“Wait. Where are you going?” I asked desperately as I watched him almost trying to step out over the edge.

“The other side, silly Ib.” He mused happily as he stretched out his arms. A gust of wind blew from the pit below and his strange coat billowed up along with his hair. Garry laughed bemusedly and shouted something which I couldn’t quite hear because of the wind. For a moment, my eyes widened and my stomach gave a painful lurch as he dropped himself forward.

He didn’t fall. Before my very eyes, thick and smooth vines appeared underneath his feet, leading him along to the other side. He walked over the thorny bridge with a calm air. His coat and hair still whipped around frantically but Garry seemed not to mind.

Once on the other side, he turned and held out a hand for me to follow. Slowly, very slowly I took one step onto the bridge and looked up to see Garry’s face beaming at me. Then, I realised something, The wind knocked my bag against my legs unkindly as I thought.

He was on the other side now. This was my only chance. I held up a hand to him to indicate he had to wait a little, as if I was just being cautious. In response, I could see his nod. I smiled as I saw him sitting down and wait for me. Closing my eyes I inhaled deeply. In five seconds, I would turn around and run. Run faster than I had ever run before.

_ Five _

The wind around me roared wildly and I could still feel the gaze of the fake Garry upon me.

_ Four _

There was some strange scent in the air, my nostrils pricked faintly as a sharp smell penetrated them.

_ Three _

Puzzled, I opened my eyes to find its source. It smelled of melting plastic.

_ Two _

Staring down in the pit below me, I abruptly noticed a red glow and a deep grumble.

_ One _

I bit my lip hard until I tasted blood and whipped around, my hair in my eyes. Blindly I ran flat out at full speed. Back through the door. Back up the hallway. Back around the corner. Back through more doors and past more paintings. I ran and ran, slamming all doors I passed through. I ran back past the room he had brought me to. Back through the corridor and back up the stairs, reaching out for the door. With a satisfying click, it swung open and I crashed it closed behind me.

I was back in the room where I had parted with the real Garry.

My breath was very unstable and I started coughing violently as the wound on my back throbbed painfully. My legs gave way and collapsing onto the floor, I continued to breathe heavily. Silence eventually filled the room once my breaths had calmed down. The only thing I could still hear was my own steadying heartbeat. That was when fear started to settle in. Had I run fast enough? Had the fake Garry come after me? Was he going to burst through that door any second now?

The fear made me sit up wildly and looked around. Something had changed however. There was no longer a door on the side I had come from. On the wall opposite me however, there was a door and with a sudden pang of insight, I understood that that had to be the door through which the real Garry had travelled. Scrambling to my feet I reached up for the doorknob and pulled the door open. Fortunately, it did and I climbed through. I was greeted by a rose sculpture. On closer inspection, I read its title was:  _ Embodiment of Spirit. _

I couldn’t help but smile; something about the sculpture seemed comforting. Looking past the sculpture, I saw another door, blue of colour. Making up my mind, I marched down the hallway and through the door. I was going to find the real Garry.

All confidence I had built up; all traces of determination I had felt, vanished abruptly. A wild pair of eyes met mine, bright red in colour and seemingly nostalgic. They stared down into my eyes as if trying to penetrate my soul. Stumbling slightly, I moved a pace back. The eyes didn’t move. And when I dared to look away from them, I noticed that the body attached to the eyes were also immobile. A massive doll sat before me, blocking what seemed to be the exit. Its red orbs were wide and almost excited looking. Quietly, I moved around it and tried to squeeze through. I could see the door not too far but it was too tough to push through.

I realised how remarkably small the space was and I squirmed some more, trying my best to reach for the door handle. Shrieking in frustration I stomped the doll to push it out of the way. Something happened. Yelling, I tripped as the doll moved while it cackled like a child. Landing on my hands I had one second to look what was happening. It was advancing on me, its large hand outstretched. Without thinking, I got up wildly and burst through the door, ramming it shut. One of the doll’s fingers got caught and I tore it off. I could hear a pained shriek on the other side as I dropped the finger, turned and proceeded to run once again. 

Emotion came bubbling up to the surface. I felt afraid, sad, angry but above all confused. There were two Garrys. One I could trust and one I could obviously not. All those years ago, something must have happened. Something which caused the conflicting difference in the two males. Was it really my job to find that out. Was that why I was back here?

I felt something drip onto my hands. Looking down I noticed drops of water. Tears ran slowly down my cheeks and I bit my lip vigorously, trying to stifle the incoming sobs. The number one thing I hated doing was crying; I had already broken that aspect a couple of hours ago but I hated the sensation of puffy eyes and a runny nose. Inhaling deeply, I wiped the corners of my eyes on my sleeve and swallowed down the rest of my tears. My task at hand was to find Garry. The nice Garry. The real Garry. The Garry I felt I had to bring back to reality instead of this fabricated world. Staring around, I took in my surroundings, which I had earlier not seen. The room seemed innocent. A simple bookshelf stood in the corner. To distract myself from my feelings, I bustled over and took a book of the shelf and flipped onto a random page. I noticed it was a book describing works by Guertena. Flipping through the pages mindlessly, I took in some of the titles.

_ Juggler, Eternal Blessing, Girl, Lady in Red. _

Shuddering, I remembered the horrifying picture. The painting itself was extraordinary but the capabilities of the painting in this world were mortifying. I continued to flick.

_ Death of the Individual, Forgotten Portrait. _

Halting at once, I stared at the page. There was a title at the top but no picture of the painting underneath. Also, there was little text underneath where there should have been a picture.

_ Little is known about this piece: The colour scheme of this work is supposedly to represent loyalty and sacrifice. _

_ Several believe that this was Guertena’s portrayal of his grandchild.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to ensure that I am simply rolling with a fairly widely accepted theory. There is no official confirmation that the Forgotten Portrait is indeed Guertena's grandchild.


	7. Chapter 7

“Grandson?” Absolutely befuddled, I read the short passage once more. But there was no doubt that what I had read was really the contents of the page. I steadied my breathing before it could become too irregular and snapped the book shut, willing myself not to think about it. There was no way this changed anything. Garry, the real one for that matter, was still nowhere to be seen and that was the only thing I cared about.

Keeping that in mind, I returned the book to its shelf and spun on the spot, darting across to the door which luckily opened. With a sigh of relief, I pushed on. Darkness enveloped the space once more; I had barely noticed the sheer difference. An eerie silence befell me as my heart seemed to stop. My ears had picked something up in the far distance but I couldn’t determine what it was. Slowly, I walked along a wall to the far side of the obscure room and pressed my ear against the cold material of the wall. Very faintly, I could hear hisses, hard footsteps and… a male’s voice. It was obviously screaming with terror, and it had to be none other than Garry. Pleased, adrenaline started pumping again and something fluttered in my stomach as the knot came undone a little. Taking another necessary breath, I scurried further along the wall until something nudged me in the hip and I reached out to find my hand wrap around a cold doorknob. The footsteps and screams grew louder as I opened the door and looked into the void ahead of me which was black as night. Squinting, I could see odd shapes dart across the far end of the corridor. With a certain air of precaution, I sped along the floor.

Wild screams sounded every so often. It was definitely Garry. I remembered those yells all too well from six years ago. Feeling both grateful and afraid, I popped my head around the corner, surprised by how light the room was in comparison to the previous one. With one glance however, I knew it was a maze. A headless statue stood with its back to me. Lucky for me it was so or I would have been seen. Being seen by these creations, I knew from experience, was not a good thing. Holding my breath, I snuck behind its back while it was motionless. However, a loud hiss told me it had noticed me at the last second and was going to come after me any second. That was when a question bubbled up inside my head and without thinking, I shouted it as it came flinging around the corner, its arms outstretched and ready to grab me.

 

“How do these things even see without a head!?” Panicking, I darted up the small hall and turned right at a sharp angle, stumbling slightly but proceeding ahead nonetheless, knowing I had no time to regain my balance. Garry’s voice came from somewhere further away. My priority however, was to get rid of the statue tailing me. For someone that didn’t seem to have eyes, it seemed to know where it was going. When I thought about it, I realised it had to be vibrations of some sort. I turned left but found myself faced with a dead end. Backtracking, I noticed the statue advancing. Then, I halted suddenly, ensuring my feet wouldn’t move. It worked. The statue too, halted for a second, confused as to why I had suddenly stopped. That moment of confusion was all I needed; I ducked under its outstretched arm and took the right way. Garry’s voice grew closer. I dared call it.

“Garry!”

His voice halted mid yell and tried to convert whatever sound he was making into my name.

“Ib?!”

“Garry, I’m here” Hoping to see him as I turned a corner, I proceeded at full speed only to be disappointed by another turn. The headless statue was meanwhile still chasing me.

“Garry, can you stay where you are. I’m trying to get rid of this thing chasing me.” Garry’s voice was further away when he spoke again.

“I seem to have the same problem. I’ll keep still once I get rid of these two.” He called back at me.

At least we were in the same space again. As I darted around another corner, I looked at the walls which formed the maze. They didn’t reach the ceiling and with a small step, I was certain I’d be able to climb up on top of it. There was nothing of such use in sight yet. But I wished there was something useful.

At that very moment, I saw it. A table with a vase on it. Without thinking for a second time, I pushed the water filled vase of and it crashed to the floor with a spectacular _smash!_ With a great leap, I jumped onto the table and hoisted myself up onto the wall with every ounce of strength I could muster.

“Yes!” Grinning from ear to ear, I got up. After swaying for several seconds, I found balance and stretched out my arms to assist in it. Suddenly a lot more aware of my surroundings, I pelted forward. Looking back around I saw the headless statue was standing there like the dumbstruck statue it really was. I noticed some of the other statues had noticed me though because they chased me on the floor below. Triumph and confidence came to the foreground and I dashed along the top of the walls which were, when I looked at them, quite broad. With my skinny feet, I could easily stand both quite comfortably next to one another. Looking around once more, I spotted Garry. He stood, eye fearful, in a corner of the enclosed space, surrounded from all sides by more ruddy statues. For once, I cursed as I sprinted over.

“Garry!” I called while waving my hand. His eye found mine and he stared at me in astonishment. And before I could do anything else, I threw myself off the top of the wall and straight up against one of the statues. It toppled over and smashed underneath my force. It gave me enough time. Pelting forward, I yanked Garry to the side by the front of his shirt and with all my strength, I shoved him forward, straight through the gap I had created among the headless statues. It all went so fast that none of the statues had time to respond. Garry squealed with fright but went along with it altogether.

“Run!” I roared as I pushed him in the back while I ran up against him. Garry did as told and broke out into a sprint. I caught up to him eventually, but only after he’d slowed down a little: his legs were so long. So long and lovely...

I paused for a second, backtracking in my mind and frowning at what I had just thought.

What was I thinking, this was the worst time to one, think like that and two, be so embarrassed about it! My cheeks were flushing red without my permission and I felt agitated and torn.

“I-- I think.” Garry gulped as he eventually halted slightly, so as to quickly catch his breath so as to say: “I think we’ve lost them…” Both of us grinded to a complete halt and looked back. He was right; there were no longer any bizarre statues following us.

“That sure was close Ib, thank you for saving me back there.” Garry smiled sheepishly at me and I fought back another blush, letting the knot in my stomach undo a little more.

“You know, not to sound rude or anything, but I was a little astounded by your incredible tactics.”

“It was just adrenaline.” I pushed his compliment away. A short awkward silence befell us.

“S-shall we keep going Ib?” Perhaps it was because was still dazed from what had just happened, but he seemed a little more tense around me than before, and I wasn’t quite sure whether it was maybe something about me.

“Yeah…” Just as we set off again, I remembered something. I flipped my bag open and dug through it. Feeling slightly surprised at it still being there, I pulled the lighter out slowly.

“hey...Garry. I think this is yours.” Garry meanwhile glanced around and his eye widened slightly.

“Where did you find that?” He asked curiously as I placed it in the pocket of his jacket.

“Oh, just lying about on the floor. You must have dropped it earlier.” I lied quickly. To that, Garry nodded slowly.

“Yeah...To be fair, considering conditions at the minute, I wouldn’t be surprised if I let stuff lying about. Although, I have to tell you that that isn’t a good thing.” He said with a deep sigh.

“Hey look!” I changed the topic as I pointed out to the far end.

“I think that’s the exit.” Feeling relieved, I marched forwards. I halted suddenly and I felt him collide with me. Almost instantly, my cheeks glowed crimson once again. He’d finally gained some heat in his skin. It was comforting. Quickly, I turned the doorknob and pelted through just as Garry apologised profusely, holding up his hands. All I could do to make things less awkward, was changing the subject once more.

“Do you want to rest Garry? From what I gathered, you ran from those statues for quite a while.”

“Yeah...That sounds good. Sorry. I honestly hope this doesn’t bother you.” In response, I shook my head and I watched Garry sit down up against a wall. Only then did I notice.

“Garry? What happened to your rose?” The stem was bent and there were three petals left. One of which looked shrivelled and like it was about to fall off.

“Oh...Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” He reassured me.

“Just...let me.... Close...close my eyes for a bit.” Without even asking for it, I picked up his rose. Walking slowly, I looked around for a vase. I found one in a chamber with canvases, bearing the picture of the vase. I sighed, a little tired of all the continuous paintings. I put the rose in the vase and waited for a bit, glancing around the rest of the room. When the rose seemed to be okay again, I picked it out the vase and placed mine, which had only lost one petal since the fake Garry had last healed it. Curious, I wondered where I had lost the petal. Shrugging it off however, I returned to Garry’s side. The man was still sleeping quietly, his head bobbing slightly. I sat down next to him and pulled out my sketch book, flipping onto another clean page. There were very few left, I noticed. Quickly counting, I noted to myself I only had four pages left. For a minute, I closed my eyes. Then, I opened them and began doodling and sketching quietly.

 

“Hey...It’s that girl again.” Garry’s soft voice whispered, making me jump. When I looked back at the paper, I realised what he meant.

This time however, I had drawn Mary, not smiling, but screaming, her skin on fire and her flesh melting. Behind her was a massive canvas, the glass cracked and the frame also on fire. Even though the picture bore no colour at all, I had a feeling Garry knew what it said as well as me.

“It looks like she was set on fire…” I said, not thinking about my words carefully enough.

“How absolutely horrifying, I would never trust anyone that set someone else on fire. That’s worse that bad.” It took a minute to realise the meaning behind those words. When the definition finally did arrive, it came with an extra dosage of guilt. I was that person.

“Ah well...It’s just a drawing.” I tried to say desperately, hoping he would get rid of that serious expression on his face. To my relief, he did. Before I could be reminded too much of what had happened, I closed the sketchbook and placed it back in my bag. The lunchbox fell out. My stomach rumbled slightly. Garry looked at me again.

“What is that?” Asked the male curiously as I watched his eyes glide to the box I now had in my arms.

“Oh...uhm… They’re macarons.” Looking at the delicatessen in my lap, I smiled. I remembered now: they were his favourite. As if reading my mind once again, he said those very words aloud.

“Those are my favourite!” And before I could stop myself, I had already replied.

“I know.” Silence befell the two of us again and Garry, with a puzzled expression, looked up at me while tilting his head.

“Wait...How do you know?” Shivering, I quickly scanned through something to say. I ended up stuttering something.

“U-uhm...w-well...You...You were stuttering in your sleep?” The fact that it sounded like a question was sure to sound suspicious. Garry however, who somehow seemed to believe me, shook his head, a smile plastered on his face.

“Of course I was.” He sighed, his smile directing up towards me.

“If it weren’t for you Ib, I think I would go mad in this place. I mean, you saw what happened earlier.” Another blush dusted my cheeks. Then, out of nowhere, his hand rested on top of my head. Flinching slightly, I looked up at his beaming face. Somehow, I knew he was going to pet me on the head like you would pet a dog. Evidently, he thought better of it and simply left the hand, placed on top of my head. But to be honest, I didn’t I would have minded much either way. His hand was nice and warm and my eyes drooped slightly, suddenly feeling quite tired. Another roar from my stomach however, woke me up.

“Garry, I think I’m going to have a macaron. Would you like one as well?’’ The smile from earlier broadened even more of that was possible.

“Really Ib, I can have one?”

“Sure.” I felt the corners of my mouth go up a little as I opened the box and held it out for him to choose a macaron from.

“I’m surprised they survived all these shenanigans, especially your spectacular, martial arts style moves.” Garry laughed softly. The way he laughed, with his velvety and warm voice, sounded sweeter than a honeysuckle could have ever tasted. Butterflies erupted in my stomach and I looked up at Garry with big, wondering eyes, examining his face closely once more. It was even smoother and fairer looking than in the original Forgotten Portrait. It finally had colour. Peachy and alive. That was what made me happy. As lifelike as the portrait had looked, nothing could compare with seeing Garry alive and moving; smiling the way he was as he chewed thoughtfully on a macaron. I took one myself. Only one remained in the box after that and I looked at it curiously. Saving it for later was the best idea. Perhaps when Garry really needed it.

When Garry finished his, he yawned and clicked his neck as he stretched it. Quickly, I got up and looked back around at him.

“Time to go?” I asked tentatively.

“I think so… Only if you’re up to it though Ib.” Garry seemed a lot more energised after sleeping and eating. That was a relief.

“Of course. Let’s get out of this place.”

 

There was only one door for us to take which, thank the heavens for it, was unlocked. Garry and I halted at exactly at the same time when both of us realised where we were. We were back in the door room.

Looking back around at the door we came through, I was almost a hundred percent certain that it was a different door to which we had originally gone through. Quickly, I left another blue cross on it while Garry scanned the area. When I finished, he was already beside another door. Without hesitating, I walked over to join him. He waited patiently for me, a smile still on his face. For a second, I thought he was going to hold out his hand for me to take but of course, that was just my imagination. The two of us went through, Garry letting me in first. Once the door behind us closed, the two of us looked around.

Dense but eerie. There was a significant change in atmosphere. There were wild scribbles on the floor and blue dolls scattered around the room as well as numerous books. Somehow, all of it seemed familiar to me. I didn’t need to look far however. As my eyes wondered up to the far end of the wall.

A soot-stained, cracked glass, empty canvas, of which its previous occupant I knew. Mary.

“My, what happened here?” Asked Garry, sounding astonished as he hurried over towards the empty frame. Instinctively, I clutched onto my bag tighter, momentarily forgetting, I had drawn that very frame less than an hour ago. Garry seemed to realise the same thing at the same time I did because he suddenly spun around, his eyes wide.

“Ib?” Asked he, voice tentative and somewhat sympathetic, as if he were talking to a child. Slowly, I nodded to indicate he had my attention.

“Can I see that drawing you made?” Whispered the male as his arm extended and reached out, seemingly waiting for me to hand him my sketchbook. Very gradually, I did so and frowned slightly, almost too afraid to do it. However, I eventually managed to fish it out of my bag and open it onto the right page at the back. Garry gently took it from me and held it up. Comparing the two images, his brow creased, I could tell that from where I stood. After what seemed like hours, he finally handed the sketchbook back to me, his frown still there, but less so. Sighing deeply, I took the book and closed it again.

“Let’s keep moving...I can’t say there’s anything useful for us here.” Relief coursed through me as he didn’t ask any further about what it all meant. If I were honest, I wasn’t quite sure myself. All I knew was that there was no way I could bring myself to tell Garry what I knew. Not at that point. Despite his immediate trust, I couldn’t just shove everything on top of him.

Behind us, descended a fleet of stairs. Garry was the first of us two to leave. I took a minute longer however to face what had happened to Mary. When I thought about it closely, the things that had happened around the time of Mary’s death were all clouded and foggy and still as hazy as Garry had been until I had found him once more.

Not long after, I wandered after Garry, catching up with him after a short minute. He waited for me at the bottom of the stairs, his expression neutral. When I reached the same level as him I looked up at him, finally realising how tall he still was in comparison to me. Not as tall as he used to be, but I could tell he was on the tall side, even for adults. With a sigh and re-joined his side and we took another exit.

I had half expected the sketchbook area to appear again, with all its numerous puzzles and Pandora’s box. It wasn’t there however. Instead, there was a long broad, red coloured corridor with massive mural paintings on the side. And before I could even look at them properly, Garry gasped beside me. I whipped around to look at the paintings myself and I froze. In each frame, from where I stood to the very end of the hall, were all huge portraits of me.

“Ib, how did these get here?” Asked Garry aimlessly, pacing over to the first one in a line of a dozen. Slowly, I shook my head, unknowing.

“I--I don’t know.” I joined Garry by his side and stared up into my own eyes which, unlike the many other paintings in the gallery, didn’t move. I shivered violently. Something felt incredibly wrong. The portrait was incredibly similar to the Forgotten Portrait but the titles were different. The first one of the lost was called _Awareness._ My deep vermillion eyes stared out of a darkened shadow, my face and hair barely visible, only illuminated by a faint red glow coming from both my eyes and the rose, clutched tightly in my hand. Holding a deep breath, I dared to move onto the next one. The image was very much the same. My eyes however, seemed tired and drooped a little bit. In the corners, I could see more red roses growing, thorns framing the picture.

Progressing along the corridors, my eyes kept closing further in the images. More roses and thorns also appeared in the pictures, until the very last painting which only had me, asleep on a bed of red roses, holding my own rose in my hands.

I hadn’t noticed what Garry had noticed however because his voice sounded fearful when he spoke.

“Ib... I don’t think I understand. Why are your hands so bloody?” He pointed and I followed the direction of his finger. He wasn’t wrong, I hadn’t even noticed, but my white blouse was stained red as well as my hands which still clung onto the rose’s stem. My insides went numb as I looked at the title.

_Betrayal of Trust._

Something told me I must have done something that was unforgivable. The icy cold sensation in the pit of my stomach told me that. The knot in there had meanwhile tightened as well and I abruptly felt sick. I gagged desperately and sank down onto my knees, leaning over. Garry, standing beside me, seemed to panic. But before I knew it, he was knelt beside me, rubbing my back comfortingly and I closed my eyes, dizziness and drowsiness overtaking me for a little while.

How were these paintings even here, and why did they have this kind of effect on me?

Sometime later, the bile that had threatened to rise, dropped back down and I motioned to Garry I was feeling okay again. He didn’t take his hand off my back, which I noticed didn’t hurt at all anymore.

“Hey Ib, I know it’s all a bit freaky. Stay with me, okay. I’m here for you.” Whispered Garry. I felt sad somehow. His words however, brought me some sort of comfort.

Garry helped me up and continued to rub my back soothingly which I didn’t protest against. There was something else I felt I needed though and without even asking, I suddenly tackled Garry, wrapping my arms around his waist tightly and pushing myself into an embrace with the tall male. He stiffened but relaxed almost immediately. Then, his arms wrapped around my shoulders as he returned the hug. Tears threatened to spill.

“It’s scary, I know.” He said quietly, at which I was almost going to laugh even though I didn’t find it funny. He didn’t understand however, I knew that but that didn’t mean his words didn’t hurt.

Far too soon, he pulled away. I let my grip slacken and he took that a sign that it was over. Feeling abandoned, I looked up at Garry, a little teary eyed. His hand suddenly placed on my head and he smiled.

“It’s quite alright Ib, we all have desires and weaknesses. It’s perfectly fine to give into them every now and then.” I grimaced slightly at his words. If he didn’t seriously mean them, it was fine. He was risking it by saying that to me though, I had a feeling I could do something stupid and reckless any second.

Garry however, simply smiled a kind smile. A smile I just couldn’t taint. With a soft sighed I nodded and his smile turned into a beam.

“I’m glad. Are you feeling well enough to proceed Ib?” Asked the male. I nodded in response. Garry also nodded and turned. Glancing around, I looked at _Betrayal of Trust_ once more, shuddered, and turned to join Garry.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to make this a fanfiction of only 15 chapters long. Fairly short I know, but, looking at the plans I've made, 15 chapters should do the task nicely.


	8. Chapter 8

What had earlier seemed like endless wandering, now turned out to be a  uite enjoyable stroll. Sure, there was the occasional sprint to escape some more bizarre statues and paintings, but it was nothing too much. In fact, both Garry and I had an awful lot of opportunities to admire some more paintings and sculptures. Garry was a little freaked out by two alternate sculptures by the titles of  _ Uh  _ and  _ Ah _ . I simply watched the man shiver beside me as the two of us gazed up into the expressionless faces of the pieces.

One thing really did change, there no longer seemed to be that cold barrier between us anymore. We even talked normally, asking each other simple questions about what our favourite colours were and what we liked to do in our spare time. He admitted he visited a certain patisserie far too often. Of course, I knew what place he was talking about but I restrained from telling him that it closed down a couple of months ago because business was bad. A post office had moved into that space instead. Also, he told me he had once tried to bake macarons himself but that they turned out horrendous.

“They were so sweet that I couldn’t taste anything else properly for the rest of the day.” I smiled softly as I watched him shudder at the very thought of it.

“Hey Ib, can I ask you a question?” Asked Garry. I replied with: “Haven’t we just been asking questions non-stop?” Garry chuckled lightly and nodded, gaging that that was a ‘yes’ to his previous question.

“Did you come to the gallery alone?” I paused for a second, thinking. Technically, if I thought by his memories, then no, I would came with mother and father. However, to me, it was six years later and I had come here alone, by being yanked in through a painting. 

“Yeah...I came alone.” I eventually answered, deciding that I’d better go with what was true at my time. Garry nodded.

“Do you have any friends?” He continued quietly, his tone abruptly a lot more subtle.

“Not really… People don’t approach me much, and I usually don’t have the guts to talk to anyone anyway.” That wasn’t entirely true; I was fine with talking to people but I had just been too preoccupied and captured by my own thoughts and hazy memories, that I didn’t even really notice.

“Didn’t you get lonely?” Asked Garry, his voice still subtle. Something about that unsettled me, as if he was some sort of psychiatrist, interrogating me to see whether my brain really was unstable.

“Not really, I have a lot of fun drawing.” Trying not to give the wrong impression too much, I simply smiled at him, doing my best to get the message across. For a minute, I thought he was going to drop it, but my heart sank as he proceeded.

“Are you afraid of something Ib?” I wasn’t entirely sure why, but I shivered, despite it not being cold. His words had brought me to a halt and I stared down at my feet. The words he had spoken didn’t make any sense. Why would I be afraid? What did I have to be afraid of?

“You don’t have to answer Ib. Yeah, don’t answer Ib, I’m being silly by asking you these sorts of personal questions. It’s really not that nice of me.” Glancing up, I saw him give me a meek smile as if to reassure me I really didn’t have to answer. Biting my lip, I nodded and resumed walking, catching up to him within three steps.

Opening my mouth, I was about to ask him something, when Garry suddenly stopped, he held out and arm and I yelped silently. There was a hole in the floor. A hole that I had not seen. For a moment, I tensed, scolding myself for not paying attention. 

“T-thanks…” I spoke as I looked back up at Garry who was squinting slightly. Following his gaze, I noticed something at the far end of a darkened room. Two, bright dots. The rest of the scene was too far away to see any sort of detail among the obscurity. Back where we stood, Garry was preparing to jump over the hole. He’d taken two large strides back and was going to make a run and then jump over. He started to but just as his feet left the floor, the lights went out abruptly. I could hear Garry shriek, just as the lights came back on. Sighing in relief, I saw he had made it over to the otherside. He was sprawled on the floor and shaking slightly with fear, but at least he hadn’t fallen down the hole. 

Seconds later, Garry, still trembling, scrambled back to his feet and turned to look at me. 

“Your go Ib… Let’s hope the lights won’t be so freaky again.”

Sadly, that hope was in vain. As I jumped they did the same thing and I momentarily closed my eyes, begging the heavens to have me reach the other side. A loud  _ oof! _ Made me open my eyes and, for a singular moment, I didn’t see Garry. But then I realised I was on top of him. I had jumped right into him and the two of us had toppled over without even realising it. That was when my cheeks finally glowed tomato red. Looking down, I stared into his startled eyes, his hair having fallen back from the usually hidden one. I was positive that his were as wide as my own and for a second, I could see my reflection within his orbs. 

“I’m sorry.” As I said it, I tried to move off him, stumbling. Then, I felt a hand on my back. It was his hand. He hooked it around my waist and helped me sit up with him before waiting for me to move off. His hair was a little frizzled and I could still see both his eyes. As I stood, removing a little dust from my skirt, I stared down at him quickly while he still sat and I could have sworn I could see his cheeks flush pink while he smiled another small smile. 

Flushing red once again, I turned away quickly and paced over to the door on the far end. Only then did I remember that there had been yellow dots there. Looking around however, there was no sign of what the two of us had earlier seen. Garry had meanwhile gotten to his feet and caught up with me. The two of us looked at the door and noticed something written upon it in blue ink.

_ Hall of Mirrors _

At the exact same moment, both Garry and myself read the title aloud with an identical tone of confusion. Then, I reached forward to open the door but it swung open of its own accord. Quickly, Garry glanced at me and noticeably bit his lip.

When we turned our heads back to face the hall in front of us, the title suddenly made sense. It was literally a hall of mirrors. In fact, the floor and ceiling were also made of mirrors. Looking around aimlessly, I watched myself and Garry from all angles, wondering what the point of the hallway was. Although, there was something unnerving about seeing hundreds of reflections of myself. A feeling of insecurity started overwhelming me as we kept walking. Garry said nothing but I could tell from his shifty glances, that he was starting to feel the same way. There was a certain paranoing aspect to the hall of mirrors which to my dismay, never seemed to end. It curved and curved, around left corners and around right corners with a seemingly unending passage.

The paranoia only grew worse. Every single movement Garry or I made, had us spinning around wildly, trying to find the source, only to realise it was a strand of hair or my red rose. The knot in my stomach had tightened once more and, after seeing myself so closely for at least more than an hour, I was starting to feel properly unwell. For support, I subconsciously held onto Garry, clutching to his sleeve desperately. He didn’t stop me; from what I could tell, he was trying everything in his power not to do the very same. His brow was furrowed and his eye constantly darting about with worry. I’m sure I would have told him it was fine, if indeed it had been. However, I was in no position to say anything of the sort for I myself felt like the last thing I’d see was literally myself. Some of the tension in Garry’s body relaxed however as a smile broke out over his face.

“I think that’s the end!” His tone was similar to the feeling I felt. Relief.

Breaking out into a sprint, the two of us made it over to the far end. With our spirits high, we prepared ourselves for a door. There was nothing there however. Well, unless you counted the huge mirror, larger than all the other mirrors before that. Something about that mirror was different as well. There seemed to be some sort of grey veil covering it. A veil that was invisible. I stared at myself in the mirror image, perplexed. I gasped.

 

In that mirror, I stood next to Garry. But something about the image was off. Although Garry and I did stand next to each other like we really did, I was much smaller and barely reached past Garry’s hips. Although my outfit was the same, every aspect of it was smaller and my face looked a lot rounder. With a fear I didn’t recognise, I stared into my own brilliant crimson orbs who looked back at me with curiosity. I looked up at Garry in the mirror image and I suppressed a gasp. His skin was white as a sheet, almost grey in fact. It looked dead. The usually warm eyes dull and lifeless while his lips were cracked. His curly and playful lilac locks, dulled and hanging down limply from the top of his head. From what I could tell, it looked like his body was either going to collapse any second, or turn to dust with only a small gust of wind. I looked back at me and I nearly screamed.

 

My shirt was no longer white. A combination of blue paint and red paint contaminated both my hands, face and shirt. And with a shock of horror, I realised that the red paint wasn’t paint at all. The me in the reflection turned to look at the zombie-like Garry with a smile while she held up something. Looking closely, I noticed it was a rose stem. No petals were attached to it. The red substance on my hands tainted the green purity of what had once been Garry’s life. When the paralyzed Garry in the mirror didn’t move, my image just shrugged and dropped the stem, stepping on it before starting to laugh lightly. The image of it was simply horrific. To watch my own face take on such a mad expression while seeming to enjoy seeing Garry suffer. It was wrong, all wrong!

Then, laughter issued from the mirror. Very distantly however. I could hear however, clear as day, a cackling deep inside of my own head. It was my voice. I tried to scream but failed, my voice box not allowing me to make any sound. My hands were shaking, the laughter continuing as I watched myself kill Garry before my own eyes.

  
  
  


“IB!”

 

Everything stopped. The mirror in front of me was normal again. I however, was no longer standing. Instead, I sat on the floor, my mouth agape and my eyes still wide. A fearful Garry kneeled opposite me, his face having gone pale as a ghost.

“Ib?” I noticed his hands were on my shoulders. Apparently, he’d been trying to shake me.

“Ib, are you okay. Say something!” Garry practically yelled, worried ladening his voice. My eyes finally took their usual size again as I closed my mouth only to reopen it again.

“I...I’m okay…” Only some of the worry left his expression however. The grip on my shoulders tightened but I didn’t flinch. 

“W-what happened?” I stuttered, looking around. We were still in the mirror room sadly. Before I could think of anything else however, Garry had already started replying.

“We were looking in that mirror and you suddenly started twitching. Then you collapsed and started laughing like a maniac…” I could see Garry shiver violently.

“But what about what we saw in the mirror?” Asked I, desperate for answers.

“What do you mean Ib… It was just our reflection… Unless you saw something different which, from previous accounts, doesn’t seem that unlikely anymore… “ Gulping slightly, I nodded. As I was about to stand up, Garry took my hand without warning and held me up.

“Are you sure you’re okay Ib, I don’t want you to strain yourself.” 

He must have thought I was crazy. If I really had done what he claimed, then I wouldn’t be surprised if he no longer trusted me. Something told me however, that he wasn’t going to let what had just happened get in the way. It was possibly his genuine, kind smile. The one that lit up his face and brought warmth to my cheeks.

 

“Let’s just keep going alright?” Asked Garry tentatively as he helped me up.

“G-good idea.” I stuttered as I let his warm hand grasp mine while he helped me up. I glanced at the same mirror which only reflected myself, my real age and appearance and all that. Something about the mirror still felt off however. With a hesitant step towards it, I raised my hand to touch the supposed cool surface of it. Just as it was going to touch the mirror, my hand passed straight through it, the mirror rippling like water.

I turned to see whether Garry had noticed. He had and he was staring in awe at the mirror before moving his hand the same way as I had done.

“What are the chances...This was the door all along.” Said the male quietly as he stared up at the top of the mirror, intrigued by its mystery. 

“We can’t guarantee that this is the exit though…” Replied I as I moved my hand up and down, the ripples in the mirror continuing wildly. Garry nodded thoughtfully but gave up after a little while.

“I can’t think of any other place, unless you want to turn back.”

“No!” Quickly, I protested and looked back at my own, now rippling reflection. 

“Let’s go through… Together.” I added just as I saw Garry open his mouth, knowing that he was going to suggest he’d walk through first and come back to get me.

“Together Garry.” I repeated as, without thinking, I grabbed for his hand, holding it tightly in mine.

Ignoring my reddening cheeks, I looked ahead. In my mind I counted till three and stepped through, feeling Garry do the same beside me.

 

Somewhere along the way, the hand that held my tightened it’s grip and I smiled vaguely. Although I couldn’t turn my hand to look at him, I knew he had to be there. Garry.

I felt solid ground beneath my feet once more and I dared look around. Luckily, Garry's hand was still in mine, attached to the rest of him.

Other than looking a bit dazed, the male seemed to be fine. He even gave me a small reassuring smile to tell me he was okay.

 

Then, the two of us looked ahead and gazed at the path before us.

There were two path ways, both of which looked like they would crumble under our very feet. The same story went for the wall that separated the two passages which, unlike all the other walls in the gallery, seemed to have taken some damage of some sort. Garry glanced at me curiously and then back at the paths.

“I have a feeling that something is trying to purposely pull us apart Ib.” Admitted Garry, speaking my very thoughts. I had been thinking it for a while and hearing him say it felt good in a sense.

 

“Neither of these ways seem stable enough both of us even if we went one after the other…” I watched the same passage as Garry and frowned at the massive gap from here to the other side; below was an empty pit. 

“I can’t jump that far, Garry.” I dared admit, to which the male only nodded in an understanding fashion.

“I’ll take this route then.” He pointed ahead to the very end where there was a white door.

“Okay then, be careful.” Muttered I, trying to restrain the aching behind, in my ribcage. He was about to jump when it came out.\

 

“Garry?” He halted and turned to face me with a curious expression.

I stared aimlessly at his bright blue orb, which, like the rose he carried with him, shimmered, even in the faintest of lights. With a small smile, I looked at him, having to only wait for a second for him to return a smile of his own.

 

“What is it Ib?” He asked in a kind tone, a tone which set me at easy and made me feel slightly fuzzy inside.

 

“Be careful…”

  
  


Even after we’d parted ways and I had steadily moved across the unstable pathway which, confirming my earlier theory, literally crumbled at a single touch. Therefore, I had to be quick to dash and to jump to make certain ends in time. I was sure Garry had taken the harder route. However, even after we had parted ways, I remembered his slight nod and reassuring smile to tell me he would be fine and that we would see each other soon once more. 

 

Being fully aware of his loss of memory was painful, but I couldn’t help but feel that it had been the right thing. As frustrating as it was to know everything that happened, when the other half of those memories were forgotten, I couldn’t help but feel that it was fate of some kind, that we had to reestablish a relationship which we had had so many years ago. 

But I still felt a feeling of distance, a feeling of a certain dimness which I couldn’t comprehend. And that slither of insecurity was enough to make me on edge as well as determined. Determined to rip it away and have Garry see that, despite not remembering, I would always be there for him. That I could never possibly, and would not possibly ever forget him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long and it's not even that great. I've had stuff going on, including both my parents being hospitalized.
> 
> Rather stressful but ah well. Next to that, I'm sorta excited about another fanfic I'm writing in an Kuroko no Basket AU...
> 
> I need to finish this project first though. XD
> 
> Thanks for reading anyways!


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